


The Phantom Dragon Book 1: A Way to Fall

by reallySolidSnake



Series: The Phantom Dragon [1]
Category: Persona 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 86,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallySolidSnake/pseuds/reallySolidSnake
Summary: All your favorite P5 characters are back, reimagined in this 80's hardcore crime-epic inspired by the famous Yakuza game series! When 19 year old Akira Kurusu is plunged into events beyond his understanding, he'll be forced into the dangerous politics and games of the Yakuza families and have to fight his way out with everything he's got! Tokyo is tearing itself apart from the shadows, and it's gonna take some new blood to save the Family!Unleash the Heart of the Dragon!
Series: The Phantom Dragon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971256
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Book One

A Way To Fall

Chapter 1:

The Best of Times

August 22, 1988

8:47 P.M.

Outside Kamurocho, Tokyo, a city that never sleeps yet still drowns in dreams…

The car rumbled and jerked under him as it drove over the uneven, unkempt pavement. The handcuffs on his wrists were smaller than he expected them to be, rubbing and burning the skin with the slightest movement, only incentivizing him to remain still as possible, which did not prove difficult considering the burly Japanese men in identical, ludicrously expensive black suits that were seated on either side of him in total silence.

His head hung low, seemingly staring at the cuffs or the floor underneath him, but in reality he was barely aware of his surroundings, save for the aforementioned burly men leaving him no room to move and the sound of some soft rock ballad he had not heard in quite a while. It was obviously American; some man crooned in the language and accent. The lyrics hardly found their way into his mind while he recollected on how he got into this position.

His name was Akira Kurusu, age: nineteen, weight: 71.6 kilograms, blood type: A, and he was in some serious shit.

Yakuza… was all he could think.

Akira finally looked up from the floor and out the window. The lights of the famous Kamurocho district were coming into view as they crossed the bridge, approaching their exit. Every meter the car advanced felt like a day to him, though whether it was from his unavoidable fear or his overwhelming exhaustion, he did not know. His long, jet black bangs fell over his eyes, and for what it was worth, he decided to take in the sights of Kamurocho for what might be the last time.

People were coming and going through the stores; women wore sexy, dazzling dresses and men wore respectable suits. The lights and colors were almost enough to blind the young man. He wondered what all those people's lives were like, what they were perhaps celebrating with drinks and good company, or attempting to drown.

The radio DJ cued up another song, and Akira decided to let the music whisk him away from here, even if for a minute.

A single note of a piano, and there was another American singing…

Tonight's the night we'll make history, honey, you and I  
And I'll take any risk to tie back the hands of time  
And stay with you here tonight  
I know you feel these are the worst of times  
I do believe it's true  
When people lock their doors and hide inside  
Rumor has it it's the end of Paradise  
But I know, if the world just passed us by  
Baby I know, you wouldn't have to cry

The best of times are when I'm alone with you  
Some rain some shine, we'll make this a world for two  
Our memories of yesterday will last a lifetime  
We'll take the best, forget the rest  
And someday we'll find these are the best of times  
These are the best of times

The Best of Times

-Styx

"Hey!" the goon to his left punched his arm, pulling Akira back to the real world. He looked up to him and saw the man glaring down at him through his sunglasses. "Stay awake, kid. We're here."

The goon to his right chuckled. "Don't let the exhaustion get to you yet, boy. Boss don't like it when his appointments seem uninterested."

"Hmph," was Akira's only response before he was pulled out of the car and into the warm night air. Almost tripping over his own feet to the bemusement of the goons, he took in his surroundings. They were in front of a small, almost quaint hotel with the word "LeBlanc" emblazoned across the top of the entrance. The outside was a reddish wooden look; Akira noted that the appearance was already becoming dated. Men and women around them on the sidewalk gawked and whispered amongst themselves at the suspicious men in black suits pushing a thin-framed boy out of a car, and then pushing him again toward the entryway to LeBlanc. Akira looked back and glared at them, only to be met with another push. "Stay awake, kid," said one of the goons before he forcefully unlocked and removed the handcuffs. "Move, damn it." This time he complied with no resistance.

Walking through the double doors revealed a dimly, almost romantically lit lobby. Lanterns with ornate designs on the sides were placed at strategic points around the room, the furnishings were spotless and seemed brand new, all being fine leather seating and tables made of various types of stone. Akira would have felt impressed were he not punched in the back again to spur him on like a cow being prodded.

They walked by the reception desk, with the finely dressed attendant bowing to the goons behind Akira while acting like he was not even there. The goons took the lead suddenly as they came on an elevator. The goon to his right produced a keycard from his jacket pocket and put into the reader below the numbered buttons, causing a green light to turn on above them and the doors to open. Akira walked in with the goons without needing another prodding.

The two men stood at his sides, mimicking their appearance in the car. Neither spoke, neither even looked at the young man. Their faces looked perfectly straight on with their hands folded in front of them and their eyes obscured by their sunglasses. Akira tried to appear composed, but could not help his right leg from shaking. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop the jitters but was interrupted by a deceptively innocent sounding ding from above, signaling they had arrived at the penthouse level.

Akira took one deep breath, short and sharp as he and the goons walked into the beautiful apartment, though suspiciously empty. The floor was reflective like a mirror. Around the room was even more exceptional furnishing then what little Akira saw in the lobby, including an easily twelve feet long dining table to his right, nestled close to a large kitchen area. But what caught his eye the most was the back wall of windows peering over the neighborhood and on to the horizon, now bathed in the miasma of colors that was the lights of Tokyo shining bright into the sky. Not a bad last sight, at least…

Akira was suddenly stopped by the goons after only a few steps. "Wait here," the one to the left said. He obeyed, watching them step forward another few steps before dropping to their knees reverently. Akira's confusion was riddled on his face before he heard footsteps from somewhere to his right. Emerging from what he suspected to be a bathroom on the second floor was an extremely built Japanese man of about fifty in white sportcoat and slacks and blue shirt. He wore glasses on his somewhat square-shaped head and his gaze was like steel. The jitters in Akira's legs started again uncontrollably, and only increased as he came down the stairs and stood in front of the goons. A large, pale scar adorned his face under his right eye, and that steely gaze then met Akira's.

He's the perfect image of a Yakuza boss, Akira thought. He looks like he could crush me with his bare hands…

The man glowered at Akira, who fought to even maintain a neutral expression. He then looked down at the goons bowing to him. "I'm afraid you are early, boys," he remarked in a voice as strong as an old oak tree's trunk. "Boss isn't in yet."

What the hell? Akira thought. This guy isn't the boss? If he's not, then who on Earth would be in charge of a guy like that!? Okay, just keep cool. Keep cool…

"Oy!" the man said in a commanding tone, immediately ensnaring Akira's attention. "You going to just stand there like a statue, boy?"

"Eh, um," Akira fought like a boxer to find any kind of cohesive response, but it felt like his tongue was made of lead.

The man looked to the goons. "Stand at the elevator and prepare for Boss to arrive. Should be any second."

"Yes, sir," they responded in unison and walked in perfect synchronicity to the elevator. There they stood perfectly still with their hands behind their backs, leaving nothing but air between Akira and the most imposing man he had ever seen.

"Tell me, boy," the man addressed him, "are you afraid?"

Akira took another deep breath and slightly adjusted his stance, making him look more surefooted and stopping the shaking in his legs. He thought of many responses to the man's question. Should he feign confidence? Reply with something snarky or sarcastic? No, that would be idiotic at the very least. This was a yakuza, and he knew better than to play games with a yakuza. "I am," he said plainly.

The man chuckled to himself and smirked. "At least you're honest, boy."

There was another ding from the elevator behind him, and Akira felt as if he was going to vomit up his own heart. The yakuza looked past Akira as the doors to the elevator opened before smirking at the young man again. Akira heard footsteps and... girls giggling? He heard two girls' voices whispering to each other, causing him more confusion than fear.

"Alright, that's enough ladies," said an extremely deep, almost comically smooth male voice. "Make yourselves at home upstairs, I'll be with you soon."

"Okay!" they both responded cheerfully. "Thank you, Sakura-san!" Their voices were almost sickeningly sweet, and obviously being faked to at least some extent. A second later they came out from behind Akira, allowing him to see the two skimpily dressed women not much older than himself giggling and whispering to each other. They both looked back at him for a moment, then whispered something again, and then giggled again. The indignity was enough to distract him from the current situation for just a moment.

The yakuza in front of him got to his knees just like the goons and bowed his head as Akira heard the footsteps of a man approaching behind him. "Welcome back, Boss," the man said. "I hope the night has found you well."

"Extremely, old friend," the man replied. He came from around Akira, allowing him to get a good look at the "Boss". With a title like that and the respect seen by the others, he expected a tower of a man to come forth, capable of ending a man with a glare. But what did come forth only added to Akira's confusion. The "Boss" was skinny, slouched, and all around unimpressive physically. He wore glasses on his long nose and his chin was exceptionally pointy. He looked Akira up and down slowly, as if inspecting him for weaknesses. "Though, my night off has been somewhat ruined by getting called into work again."

"Forgive us, Boss, but it was urgent."

"I am well aware of the urgency, Kuze." "Boss" walked over to Kuze and tapped his shoulder, which apparently was the signal to get up, which he immediately did. "I am simply lamenting the need to cut my night short. I was on a role in Shogi tonight."

They're acting like I'm not even here.

"Well, I hope your appointment will not take long, Boss," Kuze said respectfully.

"So do I, but I don't think that will quite be the case tonight." "Boss" patted Kuze on the back. "Go down to the bar and buy yourself a nice drink. No need for you to suffer this boredom as much as me."

"Thank you, Boss," Kuze grinned. "It's not like you'll be needing protection from this scrawny-ass kid anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't sell him too short, you know," Boss chuckled. "We already know he has potential." The two men laughed in unison.

Well, I'm fucked.

"Be seeing you, Boss," Kuze said as he began walking away.

"You as well, friend," Boss replied nonchalantly. "Take care." As Kuze walked past Akira, he gave him one more indignant, almost hostile smirk, to which Akira responded with a glare and nothing more. The elevator dinged and now, Akira and the "Boss" were alone. The young man's heart began to race and he gulped in his throat.

Boss looked Akira dead in the eyes. Though he was feet away, Akira felt as if this older man was breathing down his neck. "You know why you're here, kid?" Boss asked plainly.

Akira met his gaze, despite feeling he was going to crawl out of his own skin. "I do. I stood up for what was right and am being punished for it."

Boss chuckled low in his throat. "That you're interpretation of things, huh?"

"It's the truth."

"Yeah, well many people don't see it that way." Boss walked up to Akira, causing him to take a step back only for the older man to walk right past him and toward the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine from the large refrigerator. "Were it almost any other man," Boss began whilst pouring himself a glass of deep red wine, "you'd be at home right now, playing video games or getting with a girl or whatever the hell you do for fun. But you screwed with the wrong guy, kid."

"And now you're going to punish me?" Akira replied. "Gonna cut off my finger like traditions tell you to?"

Boss chuckled again, then turned around and started laughing before taking a long sip of wine. "You think you're here for punishment? No, you're not here to be punished, Kurusu. You're here for your own damn protection."

Akira felt his heart jump at the statement, but his mind could barely process it, much less believe it, prompting a very simple response of, "What?"

"Exactly what I said: you're being protected. If my boys hadn't swooped in when they did you'd probably be getting your skull kicked in in a ditch somewhere."

Akira folded his arms, regaining his faculties from the revelation. "And why exactly are you helping me then? I don't know any of you! So forgive me for thinking that getting chloroformed and cuffed and thrown into a car with a could of yakuza muscles wasn't exactly reassuring.

"We did that so as not to draw suspicion from other families, boy, and you should be very, very grateful. I can already see you have an attitude and it will definitely have to go very soon. So, will you hear me out or not?"

Akira nodded, figuring he had to be either telling the truth, or was a sadist pulling his leg to lure him into a false sense of security. "Fine. What's your interest in me?"

"Up until a three days ago? Nothing. But when you gave that man a broken nose, well, every yakuza in the city became interested in you, mostly just to see what would happen. But it wasn't just for the fact that you punched a man in the nose, though. You really know why we're all so interested in you?"

Akira lowered his gaze and glared at Boss. He had had his suspicions, and without saying so they had just been confirmed. "My parents have nothing to do with any of you people anymore," he said resolutely. "If they had any dealings or ties to your clan, they're long gone. I don't know if they were yakuza, and I don't know if anything you're saying is the truth, but I do know that they left any of that behind, if it happened at all."

Boss smirked at the young man. "First thing you have to learn about this world, kid, is that you never leave it."

"What are you talking about?"

"When one joins the yakuza, they're in it for life, no matter how hard they try to leave. You can run to the other end of the earth and you'll be pulled right back in in time. Every yakuza that ever lived died with some connection to our little world. Maybe some kid made it big and got a fortune out of it, but then retired or ran to the States when he was old. I guarantee you his funeral was paid for with money he made extorting small businesses and beating down rivals and thugs. Your parents are just the same, and they didn't try to run nearly as hard as you think they did." Akira was about to bring down a flood of wrathful swears on the man, but he was stopped when Boss raised his hand. "And before you get all uppity about how your parents 'really are', you should know that they're the ones that contacted me to get you out of there and put you under my protection."

Akira's mouth hung agape as it tried to form some sort of swear word, but nothing came out. His eyes widened and he relented as what Boss said sunk in. His gaze then fell from the older man's eyes to the floor, allowing him to see his downcast reflection.

Boss nodded. "They couldn't exactly call the police and put you all in protective custody, now could they? So they contacted me. It's the first I've heard from your mom since before you were born. I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

"You knew my parents?"

"I did, but I knew your mother far better than your father, which is why she called. She knew she could sway me to taking you in and getting you out of the crosshairs for a bit. Try as I did, I couldn't say no, and now you're here, making me talk so much my wine is going lukewarm."

Akira put his hand to his forehead, suddenly feeling the most confused he'd ever been in his life. There was a leather seat to his right and he took it, not thinking to be polite about asking whether he had permission to or not. "So…" he began slowly, "what happens now? Why did this even happen in the first place? Who the hell did I punch?"

"A very powerful, and very dangerous man."

"He was gonna rape that woman!" Akira whirled around in his chair and blurted out. "I saw it and knew I had to intervene! It's not like it's my fault he was to drunk to block my punch!"

"And yet here you are, with apparently no one caring whether it was your fault or not. If they did, your mother would never have contacted me." Boss' tone was as dark as the wine in his glass.

It was then that another, even more unsettling thought creeped into Akira's mind. "What happened to my parents?"

"They're currently under my protection, however limited my resources may be. They're safe, I guarantee it. It doesn't seem like anyone knew who you were or where your family is, but I set up some watchful eyes for them, just in case."

"And then why am I here if they're so safe?"

Boss walked over to Akira and sat in the seat next to him. He took another sip of wine. "Because you're going to be a lot more use to a lot more people if you stick here with me, and do exactly as I say."

"Hey, fuck you!" Akira shot up from his seat. "I'm no yakuza and don't want any part of it! Just let me go back and see my family!"

"I can't do that, kid," Boss replied with little inflection or expression.

"And why the hell not!?"

"Because your parents were in my debt, and you're going to be the repayment." Akira's eyes widened and he felt the burning urge to lay this man out. "Run from it, try to fight it, you'll only get yourself tortured and killed. I didn't want to do this, honestly, but your parents owed me in a way they couldn't just pass." Boss leaned forward in his chair and glared into Akira's eyes. "I told you, no one ever leaves this life."

Akira still glowered at Boss. His chest was tight, his muscles tense and flexing, ready to break this man's nose just as he had that low-life rapist. But he could not bring himself to do so. For whatever reason, despite the fact that he was looking down on the man, he felt completely disempowered. He lowered his arms as if defeated or dishonored. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Sojiro Sakura, patriarch of the Sakura crime family." He stood up to look down at Akira. "The family you are now a part of." He led Akira to the windows looking out over the neighborhood of Kamurocho and sipped his wine. The streets had only gotten busier, with many people seemingly having the times of their lives.

"This city appears beautiful," Sojiro began, "but under that beauty is a sickness, a cancer that is quickly becoming terminal. Every day, I watch it progress and infect more and more once pure parts of this little town. Soon, it will reach a dramatic and ugly conclusion, Akira, and I am in no way blameless in it ending up like this."

"Than what do you need me for?"

"We have identified the sickness, boy, and now we need the cure. Together, we can be that cure. The families relations will collapse if we don't do something, and when that happens, it will inevitably lead to chaos. We, Akira, will make sure nothing like that happens."

Akira hanged his head low. "And I don't have a say in this."

"No, you don't. The man you humiliated is right at the center of this sickness, and as it would turn out, some punk-ass kid laying him out has shaken up things here a bit. If a kid like that can affect the yakuza world with one lucky, incredibly stupid punch, imagine what he could do if he actually tried to make something happen around here."

"I told you, I'm no yakuza! I don't even really know anything about my parents' history with it. Whatever they did, whatever they owe you, can't we repay it once this is all over?"

"If that debt is not repayed now," Sojiro said more sternly, "then they will never get the chance again, and all of Tokyo will pay for their brat's selfishness. You say you're no yakuza? Well, get that idea out of your head as soon as you can, kid. You were born a yakuza, you're closer to us than you know, and now we've just made it official." Sojiro raised his glass to Akira, who had the most curious mixed expression of confusion and anger on his face. "Welcome to the Sakura family, Akira Kurusu," he smirked and downed the rest of his wine.

Akira turned on his heel and walked back a few steps, but stopped in his tracks. He looked around the apartment like a lost puppy. "Something wrong, kid?" Sojiro asked with a self-satisfied smile.

"I, uh, I don't know," the young man stammered.

Sojiro walked past him and put the wineglass in the sink in the kitchen, washing it out nonchalantly. "It's not an unforeseen reaction, I guess. You're probably more overwhelmed than you ever have been in your life."

"You can say that again."

"But don't worry. I told you, we'll be the cure to this city, Akira. You're going to do some pretty impressive things in the next few months."

"Then what do I do now?"

Sojiro placed the wineglass on the drying rack and looked back at Akira. "What every yakuza newbie does, kid: exactly what your superiors say, without question. No matter what it is, anytime, anywhere, you bow that big head of yours and do it without a second thought. Simple, right?"

"I guess."

"Good." Sojiro walked past him and up to the staircase to their right where the girls had gone. "Now, your first task as yakuza is to get to bed. There's a guest room to your left, and all the essentials have already been provided for you. Just don't make a mess of anything."

Akira looked to his left and saw the indicated door. Plain, white, and unassuming. He nodded his head. "Okay."

"Right. Now, I have a date to get back to that you've kept me from. They're probably asleep by now, and if they are you'll have to work double to make up for my lost time, kid. But get some rest now. Trust me," he turned around and started walking up the stairs, "you'll need it."

"But there's so much I still need to know!"

Sojiro stopped. It was a long, painful moment before he spoke. "You don't know what you need to know, kid. You only just got your feet in the water, now's not the time to jump headfirst into the deep end. Keep your wits about you, and you'll find everything you need."

Sojiro disappeared up the stairs, leaving Akira alone on the floor. He made his way to the guest room and opened the door. All that was in there was a bed, a lamp, and a closet. Akira threw off his jacket and fell onto the bed. His head hurt, his muscles ached, and his mind raced with the overwhelming information he had just received.

"Tokyo is sick?" he said to himself. "The families are falling apart? And my parents… what the hell is happening?" His eyelids began to feel heavy, and the room seemed to become darker. Sleep was taking him, but there were so many questions he desperately wanted answered. Who was that guy I hit? What do my parents have to do with it, and why does Sojiro know mom so well? I can't believe I'm here, I still don't really know why I'm here. But if they're gonna take me from my family all because I stood up for what's right, I won't take that lying down. Whoever that man was is responsible for all of this, and I have to make sure my family is safe. Whoever you are, wherever you are, you won't get away with this. I wasn't born a yakuza, but I'll do whatever it takes for my family to be safe.

If this city really is sick, and one broken nose is the start of the cure, then maybe I can do something. Mom, Dad, whatever you were before I was born, I hope that same strength is in me. Because I've never been more scared in my life…

[Thank you very much for reading! If you'd like to see more, leave a review and tell me what you think! Hope you enjoyed and hope to hear from you!]


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Errand Boy

Akira's legs felt heavy and unwieldly as he walked along the sidewalk. It was dark out, meaning he had been at the bar for about three hours when he only intended to be there for one. His stomach ached and his hands felt clammy nestled in the pockets of his jeans, but it was his head's not quite painful but more than annoying throbbing that spurred him on to get home quicker so he could finally lay down in front of his television.

The streets were unusually quiet, even for the small town he lived in. Houses he passed had lights on inside, though no one was even on their front porches or lawns. A dog barked from a yard somewhere to his right and the moon shone brightly overhead, bathing the streets in a blueish hue mixing almost relaxingly with the bright, artificially white beams of the streetlights. The scene was enough to at least distract the young man from the sensation of his limbs feeling like they had no bones and his head like someone was constantly tapping his skull from the inside.

The sound of his blood thumping in his ears was almost enough to drown out the muffled whimpering of a woman ahead of him. Almost.

Akira's focus snapped back to reality when the muffled whimpering began to grow in volume and intensity. There was an alley to his right; the sound was obviously coming from there. Akira quickly but quietly made his way to the entrance of the alley and hid behind the closest wall, listening intently.

"I-I really have to go now!" a woman said, sounding not much older than Akira. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here! I, uh, I have work in the morning!"

She's obviously lying. The hell did I just walk into?

"C'mon, Sshaya," a gruff, older man's voice slurred, "you don't need to go into work in the morning. I can pay you for any wages you may have mished."

"I'm not a damn hooker!" Akira peaked out from behind the wall, getting a good look at the incident. He saw a woman with long dark hair and youthful features, likely around twenty-three years old, struggling in the grips of a tall, bald, intense looking man in an expensive suit and glasses. He was holding her arms tight as she began to flail violently, kicking his legs and thrashing her body around, but obviously to no avail. Even in his drunken state, the man was strong enough to pin Saya to the wall while hardly budging from her struggling. "Just let me go or I'll call the police!"

"You're making thish so damn difficult!" the man shouted in her face. "I didn't have to do any of this for you, you know? I think I deserve a bit of payment!"

"Help!" the woman called Saya shouted into the darkness. "Please, help me!"

"And who the hell is gonna listen to you in a shmall town like this, huh?"

Don't get too confident in that, jackass. "Hey!" Akira shouted, rounding the corner and standing tall in the entrance to the alley. The struggling between the two people halted briefly, with Saya's eyes fixating on Akira. "The lady told you to piss off, so why don't you be a gentleman and do so?"

"Please help me!" Saya shouted, slowly becoming hysterical.

"Shut up, woman!" the man screamed in her face. "And you! This isn't a peep show, kid! This is grown up business! Get lost before I get mad!" The man's grip on Saya's wrists tightened, causing her to yelp in pain. Akira felt his instincts begin to take over; waiting around to negotiate was not going to work on this guy. He had to act, and quickly.

"Get off of me!" Saya screamed and kicked the man's shin with what strength she could muster, causing him to tighten his grip more but lose some of his balance. Gotcha.

While he was distracted, Akira sprinted toward the man, closing the gap in a couple seconds, but giving him just enough time to see the man turn his face to him in surprise. Akira raised his fist and jabbed it forward with the whole force of his bodyweight behind the punch going directly into the man's nose. He made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a cough, and fell on his back on the cold, hard pavement. Saya fell to the ground beside him but recovered instantly, getting behind Akira and hiding behind his shoulders. As he stood in a fighting stance ready to follow up if needed, he could feel Saya's hands come onto his shoulders. They were shaking and gripping at his collar bone in a way that was almost painful.

The bald man sat up, covering his nose as it poured blood from his nostrils, seeping even through his fingers. He grunted in pain and looked up at Akira with a vengeful glare. "Damn brat," he muttered, "I'll kill you!"

"You're too drunk stand straight or even take a punch how do you think you'll do if you come at me? The 'damn brat' who just smashed your fucking nose?"

Before the man could react, another man's voice sounded off from behind Akira. "What's going on here?" a gruff, middle-aged man said as Akira became illuminated with a flashlight. He turned around to see two police officers shining their flashlights on the group with one hand, and their pistols at the ready with the other. "We received noise complaints and reports of an altercation," said the first officer, "and you three seem to fit the bill. Hands up and come quietly."

Akira looked to Saya, who still insisted on holding onto his shoulders. "Just my luck," Akira muttered, and raised his hands as the officers moved in to make the arrest.

The young man blinked as the flashlights temporarily blinded him, and when he opened his eyes again, he was laying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. His body felt clammy and sweaty and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Akira slowly sat up on the bed and took in his surroundings. The same guest room he had been in last night, confirming to him that he actually was now in the care of a yakuza.

Akira rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but behind his eyelids all he saw was the face of the man he had assaulted. He saw a flash of the man turning to face him, and then another flash of him on the ground, trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Those images appeared pervasively in his mind more times than he cared to admit; there was just something about the experience, be it only a few seconds of an experience, that stuck with him. Though, it was not for the reasons one would normally suspect.

Such an intense experience would normally leave a person as young as Akira scarred, or at the very least rattled, but he felt no such thing when looking back on that night. His gut twisted, but not with disgust, but more like the feeling one gets when climbing the first hill of a rollercoaster. He felt energized, excited when gazing into the vengeful eyes of that man. Everything following the arrival of the police was more or less a blur, but every second, every detail leading up to the event was as clear as day to him. Knowing this concerned Akira, but only slightly.

Sometimes he wondered if the reason he remembered it so well was that he had enjoyed it, but he quickly banished the idea from his mind anytime it occurred.

Akira got to his feet and rubbed his temple, his senses still hazy from being in such a deep sleep. He opened the door and stepped out into the main area of the penthouse, the morning sunlight of the waning summer season illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow. He looked around and noticed that everything, from the furniture to the dishes, seemed untouched since last night, and his eyes falling on the dishes and refrigerator served also to remind him of how hungry he was. His stomach grumbled impatiently.

Akira quickly made his way around the kitchen in search of something of sustenance until he found a box of sugary cereal. The normalcy of such food betrayed Akira's impressions of Sojiro from the previous night, expecting everything in the apartment to be fine cuisine to be paired with overly specific bottles of wine, but here it was, in all its peasant glory: some sugary cereal and some milk. It was simple, basic, and all together opposite to what Akira expected of a yakuza boss, but those very things are what gave him some slight bit of comfort.

The last twelve hours had been complete and total chaos for the young man, and anything that would make him feel even the slightest bit at home, even if it was just a bowl of cereal, felt like a luxury in the moment.

As Akira sat down at the table to begin his breakfast, his stomach growling all the more in anticipation, he was interrupted by the sound of two… no, three sets of footsteps descending the staircase from the upper floor. Sure enough, down came the two escorts from last night and Sojiro, the three of them making polite conversation and beginning their goodbye's.

"Thank you for the wonderful night, ladies," Sojiro said to them in a gentlemanly but also distinctly confident and husky tone. "I only hope you had as much fun as I did."

"Oh, we had a great time!" the one to the right responded. "But I still doubt we had as much fun as you, Sojiro." Her tone was flirtatious and all three of the group laughed at her remark.

"Just call us if you ever wanna have fun again!" said the girl on the left. "We'll make whatever arrangements needed to make it happen."

"I appreciate that greatly," Sojiro bowed as he called the elevator for them. "Have a great day, ladies. Take care of yourselves."

"Thank you, Sojiro!" the girls said in unison. "See you around!" With that, the girls stepped into the elevator, whispering and giggling to themselves, and were gone.

"Hoo boy," Sojiro said under his breath. He stretched his back and cracked his neck, seemingly ignoring the younger man a few feet to his left. The young man in question was left completely struck dumb with how to tackle a situation like this. Sojiro turned around and smirked at Akira, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. "Still alive, kid?" he asked condescendingly. "You look like you're having a stroke, you're so rigid."

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," the young man replied in possibly the most awkward tone he could ever produce. "Just, uh, didn't want to interrupt you three."

"Uh huh, sure." Sojiro made his way to the refrigerator and pulled out some sort of protein shake, and began drinking it as if nothing the least bit awkward just occurred. "I see you've made yourself at home," he said nonchalantly.

"Trying to, at least," Akira took another bite of his cereal, now starting to go soggy. "I guess if my parents trust you, then I can at least trust that the food isn't poison or something."

Sojiro chuckled at that as he swallowed another swig of the shake, causing him to sputter for a moment. "Kid, I haven't done anything like that in a very long time. I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you don't pull your weight or just do something stupid."

"That some kind of threat?" Akira glared at him.

Sojiro chuckled again. "Hoo boy, Anri raised a fighter, now didn't she? That's a good scowl you got, Akira. Eyes narrowed, higher arched eyebrows, pursed lips, it could make you into a good hustler or muscle. Or it can land you in a dumpster outside a Big Bang Burger."

Akira's scowl immediately softened as Sojiro's tone turned from sarcastic to cynical. "Sorry. It's a habit, I guess."

"And just like that, your backbone is gone. God, you're never gonna make it in this business being so wishy-washy, kid."

"I told you, I'm not gonna be in 'the business'. Hell, I don't even know if anything you've said so far is really true!"

"Calm down, Kurusu," Sojiro raised his hand as confidently as a king. The young man was immediately silenced. "I agree, there is more that needs to be discussed about your situation, and I didn't expect you to wake up this morning ready to head out and shake down some brick and mortar store. That's why you're gonna give your mother a call and listen to her explain all this."

Akira was once again left embarrassingly speechless. He had wanted to contact his family but figured he would have to make some kind of daring escape before he would be able. Now he was just told that he was going to get all this explained to him by his own flesh and blood. "Um, wha…?" was about as eloquent as he was able to muster.

"Don't look so shocked, kid. I would have given you the opportunity last night, but you looked more out of it than you probably were aware. But you seem to be fine this morning, so why don't you grab the phone over there," he motioned toward the phone wired to the wall, "and put in a good word with your mom for me, huh? I've got to take care of some business today, but you and I still have some things to discuss, so try to make it quick, will you?"

Akira shot up from his seat without a word and picked up the phone so quickly it almost flew out of his hands. He frantically dialed his home and held the phone to his ear, the dial tone finally finishing. Sojiro stepped out of the kitchen and made his way upstairs, shaking his head as he did, but Akira did not notice. With stomach turning anticipation, he waited for the phone to be picked up. C'mon, pick up, pick up, pick—

"Hello, Kurusu residence," a woman's voice answered in a kindly, normal tone.

"Mom!?"

The woman on the other line gasped into the phone. "Akira?! Akira, is that you?"

"Yeah, mom, it's me!" When he heard his mother's voice, the young man surmised that what he felt in that moment was leagues beyond anything he would experience if he had just been handed a million yen check, or some other extravagant gift. He could not help the smile that was immediately plastered on his face. "God, I'm so glad to hear from you!"

"I'm so, so glad too, honey! Are you okay? Have you been hurt or something?"

"No, mom, I'm fine. At least physically." His rapid, pounding heartbeat may have implied otherwise though, but he was too elated to care or even notice. "Look, so much has happened in the last day, and I'm not really sure what's going on, but some old creep that I'm apparently staying with said that you would know what was really happening. I wanna know everything, mom. Why am I here? Who are these guys? And… and, uh…" Try as the man might, the final question caught in his mouth like food down the wrong pipe.

"Do I really know any yakuza?" Anri finished the sentence for him.

"Well, yeah. That too."

There was a long pause, followed by a sigh before his mother responded. Akira leaned back against the counter, suddenly feeling some sort of exhaustion, but whether it was from the stress of the last few days or his emotional state, he could not tell. "That old creep you referred to is Sojiro, an old friend of my family, honey. I've known him most of my life, but we ended up… taking different paths before you were born. That's why you never knew him."

"But is he really a yakuza is my question, mom."

"Yes, Akira. He is."

Akira's elation began to give way to a creeping anger, a sense of betrayal and deception. "And you're one too, mom?"

"No, I'm not," Anri responded immediately.

"But you were?"

Anri did not respond immediately. "Yes, honey," she said slowly.

Akira's unoccupied hand curled into a fist, and he let out a long sigh. "Why didn't you tell me any of this? I thought I was being kidnapped, for god's sake!"

"I know, Akira, and I'm so, so sorry. It was just, well, I left that all behind me before you were born. I really did. I cut a lot of ties and burned a lot of bridges to get out of that life so I could live my life as a normal woman, a normal wife," she paused, "a normal mother."

Words were continuously becoming harder and harder for Akira to find as more and more information flooded his mind. It was as if every word his mother uttered erased and stunted his vocabulary and speech, replacing it all with knowledge he wished he would have never known. "And I dragged you back into it, huh?"

"No, Akira, I promise you did no such thing. You got caught in a bad situation and tried to do what was right. It was just bad luck that it was a dangerous man. I don't blame you for anything, I promise."

"So why am I here? Why aren't we in witness protection or something?"

"It's not that simple, Akira," she replied suspiciously quickly. "Look, you may hate me for all this, and for what I'm about to say, but that's about all I can tell you right now, for your own safety."

"What the hell does that mean?!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Anri said, now obviously on the verge of tears, causing Akira's heart to feel as if it had fallen into his stomach. "I promise, this is for all our good. I trust Sojiro with my life and yours, I know he has the best intentions with all this and he has the influence to make something of it. Just please, Akira, I'm trusting you to be a man and see this through. All I ask is that you trust that I would never do anything to hurt you."

Akira was the one that paused this time. A part of him wanted to scream and destroy the furnishings, or anything else he could get his hands on. Another part wanted to lock himself in a closet and cry, maybe sneak a stash of beer in with him, just anything to make him forget about the world and his situation. But the largest part of him just wanted his mother to feel secure and that he was safe. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fist, relaxing himself as best he could. "Okay," he said slowly. "I trust you, mom."

"Oh, thank you, Akira."

"But I'm still not happy with any of this."

"And I didn't expect you to be. Just follow what Sojiro says, and don't do anything reckless. This will all be over before we know it, I promise."

Akira responded in a lower tone than before, his elation and sense of comfort diminishing with every breath. "You're making a lot of promises, mom."

"Because I know everything is going to be okay."

"Because you were a yakuza?"

"Because I am your mother, Akira." Her voice shaky again, and obviously offended by his implication. Akira cursed himself for that remark.

"Right, sorry, mom. I'm just… really, really stressed right now. Actually, that word doesn't cut it. I'm not sure even what I feel right now, but it's like I'm gonna explode any minute. I don't know what to do, what to say—"

"You'll make it, Akira," she interrupted him. "You'll be okay. You're a strong, good young man, and I'm positive everything will be alright."

Akira's anger and confusion subsided if only be the smallest percentage. He felt the knot in his gut become ever so slightly less tight at his mother's calming tone and words. He swore that moms had some sort of magic spell they could infuse into their speech whenever their child really needed reassurance or to calm down. "Okay," he finally responded. "I'll do my best."

"And you're best is all you'll need." That made Akira smile a little, his expression soften just a bit. "I'm so glad to hear your voice, honey. I'll tell your father right when he gets home that you're okay. And Akira, I promise that soon you'll know everything that's been going on. It's just not a good time. You'll understand soon."

"Okay, I'll be waiting. Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome, Akira. Stay safe, and call me when you get the chance."

"I will, I promise." Knowing that he had to say goodbye and return the real world was almost enough to make the young man vomit, but he knew he had to stay strong, at least appear to be for his mom. He was a strong young man, she had said so, and his mom was always right. At least, that's what she said. "Bye, mom. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie. Bye." There was a rattle on the other line, and then Anri hanged up, leaving not but the dial tone to assault Akira's ear. Slowly, he put the phone back as well and let out a deep breath. Crossing his arms, he then leaned back against the counter again and stared into space, trying to process the incredible amount of information he had just received.

"So, she was a yakuza," he said to himself. "But she never said anything about dad. I wonder if he knows about all this."

"You gonna stand there all day and talk to yourself, kid?" the voice of Sojiro said from around the corner. The man accompanying the voice then emerged from behind the wall, hands in pockets.

"Were you eavesdropping, old man?"

"Didn't have to, you were loud enough as is. And besides, I already knew everything you and Anri were talking about, kid. You're the one that was getting caught up."

"Touche," Akira replied dismissively.

"Hoo boy," Sojiro said, putting his hands on his hips, "you're gonna be a tough one, Kurusu. Just so you know, that kind of attitude is only an asset when you've worked your way up the ladder a bit in this business." Sojiro paused, looking Akira up and down inquisitively. "Ah, you're not arguing about being in the business now, huh? Your mom really worked some magic on you."

"I'm not happy about any of it," Akira interjected with a glare. "But my mom said that you can be trusted, I just have to follow the rules or whatever. If that's what it takes to get out of this mess, then fine. I'll do it."

Sojiro chuckled and crossed his arms. "Such a serious young man. Keep that icy glare about you and you might end up being one of my best new lackeys, Akira. A dangerous but commanding aura is exactly what you need to be a good hustler, and that's exactly what I was going to talk to you about."

"Already shipping me out to work for you, Sojiro?"

"More or less, yeah." Akira raised an eyebrow at the older gentleman. "You see, I actually have another lackey about your age currently working over a small business a couple blocks down. He's scheduled to have a discussion with the owner of a little restaurant this morning, and expected to get him to sign up for some protective services by lunch. It'll be easy, the job is already mostly done, just gotta iron out the last details. I want you to go down there and meet up with the kid. He'll wrap up his job then give you a little tour of the neighborhood, probably take you somewhere nice, but not too nice or it's coming out of his paycheck," Sojiro chuckled again.

"So you want me to just sit around and watch him work then let him butter me up?" Akira asked impatiently.

"God, don't you ever smile, kid? But, yeah, that's basically it. I'm the Boss, as you know, and it would be bad for my image were I to show the new gopher the ropes, and image is very, very important in this business. So for this reason, Sakamoto-kun will be providing your orientation. A bit of a punk, that one, but he's committed, which is a rare trait in most newbies these days."

"Sakamoto, huh? Fine, I'll go see him. Just say when and where."

Sojiro sighed. "You've got a lot to learn, Kurusu, especially with how to talk with your superiors. All in good time, I suppose. The kid will be down at the Nishikiyama bar and café in about fifteen minutes. It's just a couple blocks south of here, can't miss it."

"Thanks, be seeing you."

As Akira started to make his way to his room to change, Sojiro interrupted him by coughing into his hand. "That's not how you say goodbye to your boss, Kurusu."

Akira's lips pursed, feeling awash in indignation. Slowly turning to the older man, he bowed and said in an almost comedically insincere tone, "Thank you for the information, sir. I hope you have a good day."

Sojiro's eyes narrowed, looking more annoyed than angry. "Just hope to God you never do that with anyone else." Sojiro walked right past the younger man and into the elevator. Without another word, the doors closed, and the Boss was gone.

"Crotchety old kook," Akira muttered, rolling his eyes as he made his way to his room to change.

When he had donned better clothing, a pair of grey slacks and red button-up conveniently found in his closet in his exact size, he made his way out the LeBlanc hotel and southward to his supposed destination. Though it was still breakfast time, the streets were already bustling with people coming and going between shops and cafes. Akira simply put his hands in his pockets and walked on down the street. The young man received some sideways glances from passersby, as if they suspected as to his new impromptu profession, a summation likely helped by the annoyed glare he wore on his face. At first, he found the implication to be worrying, but there was something about the looks of suspicion (and dare he think fear?) that was almost… exhilarating.

After a few minutes of walking and confusion, he finally came on the Nisjikiyama bar and café. It was quaint, small, very much a mom and pop kind of establishment. And it was closed. It was going on ten a.m. at the time and the sign on the door said it would not open until 11:30. "So, what? Are we expected to break in?" he thought aloud.

"Yo," came a male voice from Akira's right. Walking up to him along the sidewalk was a fit, muscular looking young man with short, spiky blond hair. He wore a white coat and slacks over a red tribal pattern shirt with a necklace of tiny gold rings wrapped around his neck. As the young man approached Akira, he took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, followed by producing a lighter from his breast pocket and lighting the little roll of chemicals. All these elements came together to exemplify the image of a well-dressed, cultured thug. "You the new kid, huh?" he asked in a vocal register that sounded slightly younger than he appeared to be.

Akira maintained his slight scowl and pursed lips as the thuggish young man approached him, unsure as to exactly how much danger he could potentially be in at the moment. "Yeah, that's me," he replied curtly. "And you're Sakamoto, I'm guessing."

"That's me." Sakamoto put the lighter back in his pocket and took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a puff of smoke away from Akira's face. "But you can call me Ryuji. What can I call you?"

"Akira. Kurusu Akira."

Ryuji lifted an eyebrow at the dark-haired young man. "You wake up with a pole up your ass this morning, Akira? You look like you're ready to cave someone's head in."

"Let's just say it's been a long weekend."

Ryuji looked unimpressed, almost offended, but then laughed lightly to himself as he took another puff of his cigarette. "Well, hopefully we can blow off some of that steam once we're done here, man. Shouldn't take too long."

"The restaurant's closed," Akira looked to the door. "What, are we just gonna wait for the next hour and half?"

"God, you are green, man," Ryuji remarked lightheartedly. "You're not some civilian salaryman, Akira." Ryuji walked up to the door and knocked on it with his knuckle just hard enough as to not seem friendly. He turned back to Akira as he put his cigarette in a disposal can. "You're a yakuza, man. Open and closing times don't mean anything to you." Through the window, Akira saw a middle aged man peer out the door. His curious expression quickly changed to one of considerable fear as he shuffled his way to the entrance. "See?" Ryuji smirked. "What did I say? Now wipe that killer mug off your face, we're here for business, not a barfight."

"Noted. Anything else I oughta know?"

"Yeah, sure: don't fuck with the conversation."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Breakfast at Ma's

A short Japanese man in a chef's garb appeared at the door, opening it to the two younger men slowly. His features were mostly unremarkable, weathering lines under his eyes, straight hair tucked into the back, and a pale pink mark across his face obviously as a result of some burn, likely from kitchen work. As the door slid open, Akira and Ryuji were able to clearly make out the man's face, seeing his eyes riddled with both fear and anger. Akira's stomach twitched at the implications of what he was about to do, but he noticed Ryuji wore a completely neutral expression on his face. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes slightly lowered as he addressed the shop owner.

"Good morning, Nishikiyama-san," Ryuji said surprisingly pleasantly with a bow of the head. "We appreciate you meeting with us so early before your shop opened. I hope you will allow us to come in."

The man apparently named Nishikiyama met Ryuji's politeness with a glare and a nod, motioning for the two men to enter the café. Ryuji thanked the shop owner and entered confidently, with Akira tailing behind far more awkwardly. He looked around the restaurant, eyeing the small room up and down. Nothing out of the ordinary compared to any cafes he had been in in his lifetime. Tables and booths made up the floor area, and there was bar seating to the right where patrons could watch their food be made in front of them. Akira and Ryuji sat down with Nishikiyama at one of the tables nearest to the entrance. The owner obviously did not intend for the to take long.

"I hope we can resolve this matter quickly," Nishikiyama uttered flatly as he sat down, as if reading Akira's thoughts on the situation.

"So do I," Ryuji replied, folding his arms in front of him, betraying his calm and pleasant demeanor. "As you can tell, I'm gonna be followed by this guy for the rest of the day," he pointed to Akira, who had just sat down without a word, "and I've got plenty that needs to be shown to him for his orientation, so I do hope we can get all out business done fast and be out of your hair, sir."

"Ah," Nishikiyama smirked at Akira, who only raised an eyebrow he tried to come off more confident than he felt, "a new recruit into the shadows, are you? You're messing with a dangerous business, boy. This line of work will make it difficult to keep friends." Nishikiyama accentuated those last words as his gaze turned back to Ryuji. The blond young man chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

"We're here to talk shop, remember, Nishikiyama-san?" Ryuji responded. "The guy doesn't have jack to do with us, he's just here to watch. Now," Ryuji leaned forward in his chair, his pleasant grin fading back to a neutral expression, "have you considered our business proposition, sir?"

"I have yet to receive any kind of proposition," Nishikiyama replied sternly. "All I have been made aware of is a thinly veiled threat by yourself and your co-workers, if that is how you can actually refer to yourselves."

"Your restaurant is a hot spot for business, sir, and we just wanted to make sure we made the best offer. It's nothing personal, I promise."

"It's just business, right?"

"Exactly." Ryuji sat back in his chair again. "If you don't come through with our proposal, then there will be nothing we can do to guarantee your financial and personal well-being from here on. We're already partnered with the majority of establishments in the area, even likely with some of your personal friends, and let me tell you, they have nothing but great things to say about our services."

"Because if they speak out, you'll bring the hammer down on them."

"Hell no, not at all." Even with it being Akira's first day on the job, he could tell that Nishikiyama's resolve was waning quickly while Ryuji appeared to be in complete control of the situation with hardly any effort. "If they offer up any scathing reviews of our services, then all we do is offer a change in the arrangement, or just leave them to their devices, and that's the end of it. What happens from then on is on them, sir. It's how we've done it forever."

Nishikiyama looked like he was about to flip the table over on Ryuji, but then sighed and hanged his head low, folding his hands in his lap. Akira looked to Ryuji, who smirked when he knew that the shop owner was not looking at him. "I wanted to stand my ground this morning," Nishikiyama began. "I wanted to tell you yakuza what we all really think of you. I wanted to stand up for everyone you've abused and extorted… but I guess my spine is as fleeting as the breeze."

Ryuji nodded, trying not to laugh. "You know how many times I've heard those same lines, man? Don't beat yourself up about it, there's no shame in making the right call, even if it is the hard one."

"Just know that I would prefer anything else on this good Earth to partnering with you." Nishikiyama got up from the table with a scowl and made his way to the back of the room, seemingly into an office.

"Trust me, man," Ryuji turned to Akira, "he'll be singing our praises in two weeks flat, or less."

"Forgive me if I don't exactly believe you right now, after what I just saw."

"That's the same shit just about everyone gives us, man. Better get used to it quick too, 'cuz you'll be the one making these transactions someday."

"I wouldn't count on it," Akira replied flatly.

"You keep telling yourself that," Ryuji smirked again.

The office door opened behind them, producing Nishikiyama who was carrying a small leather bag in his hands. Looking downright despondent, he sat in his seat again in front of the younger man and placed the bag on the table. "The deposit," he said with a sigh. "I hope your Boss will be appreciative, Sakamoto. I was barely able to scrounge this up this month for you. I even had to reduce the amount of coupons that went into circulation."

"The Boss will be jumping for joy, sir," Ryuji replied without looking at Nishikiyama, only eyeing the bag as he picked it up. "I'll get this over to my people and then they'll be in touch by the end of the week." Ryuji's eyes found Nishikiyama's again. "Congratulations, Nishikiyama! You've got nothing else to worry about for the entire lifetime of your business! You need anything taken care of that's a bit out of your budget, just contact us and we'll have it taken dealt with, guaranteed."

"Just get out," Nishikiyama grunted, pointing to the door behind him with his thumb. "That's something you can take care of for me."

Ryuji paused and then shrugged. "You got it, chief. I'm sure you've got plenty of stuff on the to-do list anyway." He got up and patted down his sport coat, with Akira mimicking him, with far less grace and confidence. "Thank you for your time, sir. Have a good day," Ryuji grinned. Nishikiyama huffed in response and looked to the floor.

Ryuji whistled awkwardly and strutted to the door, with Akira in tow step for step. The second he heard the door close behind them, indicating they were at least mostly out of earshot, Akira butted in, "What the hell was all that?"

"A business transaction," Ryuji replied nonchalantly, taking out his cigarette pack and lighter from his jacket pocket. "Pretty simple and routine, honestly. Yeah, you were there with about as much energy as a dead fish on the riverbank, but at least you followed orders and didn't fuck anything up, which is more than I can say about most recruits." He lit his cigarette and took a long breath of it before breathing the cloud out into the air.

"But what were we doing in there, huh? What did that old guy have to do with anything? The way he acted, I swear he thought you were gonna shoot him or something."

"Do you even know what a yakuza does, man?" Ryuji asked, growing more perturbed by the second. "We get a good deal of our money from protecting local businesses."

"You mean extorting them?"

"Yeah, the hell did you think we were doing? Putting in a new landline?" Ryuji took another puff of his cigarette, seemingly calming himself. "We shouldn't be talking about this here, anyway. Follow me, it's time for the rest of your orientation."

"Where are we going now?" Akira walked at his side as Ryuji started strolling off down the crowded sidewalk. "Got another business to extort?"

"Hell no, dude. And drop that self-righteous act. I'm just taking you out for brunch, but if you keep up that attitude then we may end up with some problems that won't look good on my report."

For five minutes, after that gut wrenchingly awkward exchange between the two young men, Akira and Ryuji walked on in silence. The blond young man led Akira on without looking back to see if he was even following him, as if after their conversation he no longer cared about his assignment. Akira's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that mad it difficult to focus on navigating the crowds to follow Ryuji to… wherever it was they were headed.

Mentally, Akira recapped the events of the day thus far. He had woken up from that recurring memory stroke nightmare, received a concerning but heartfelt call from his mother, and watched a man who was now his new coworker extort a local small business for most of their savings, and now had pissed off the man that had done the extorting. Brilliant, Akira. Just brilliant. You went and pissed of a yakuza muscle. You're a real dumbass, you know that? Definitely not how he was used to spending his mornings, but at least it was interesting. Next on the to-do list would be to get back into Ryuji's good graces. By the looks of it, Akira could potentially take him in a fight, but if he were able to win, who knows what kind of goons they would send after him? And if he lost, well, being admitted to the hospital would not be great for his current situation, assuming he would get off that easily.

A moment later, Ryuji stopped in front of another small restaurant, though this was obviously not some family-oriented café. "We're here," he remarked coldly. The sign read "Serenity" in off-white color and sophisticated font surrounded in a gold border. Akira only became more confused at the sight.

"This is a bar," Akira spoke up. "Aren't they closed this early in the day?"

"Not for guys in our line of work," Ryuji replied with another of his smirks as he took a small, copper collored key from one his pockets and fiddled with the door lock. "Just be respectful and mind your manners, this is a classy little joint."

"Right, sure."

Stepping through the doorway, Akira was greeted with the sight of a cozy, atmospherically, almost romantically lit little lounge. Much like the marquee out front, the lounge was illuminated in a soft golden hue that would be easy on the eyes after a long day at work. No one else was present, save for the standout, downright remarkably beautiful woman of about thirty wiping down the bar. She tilted her head up at the sound of the door opening, taking Akira aback by her striking face, long dark locks and round, piercing eyes. She wore a tight red sequin dress that hugged her lean but not at all conservative curves, with a neckline that came dangerously close to reaching her cleavage. She smiled a stunning, sunny smile, but not at him.

"Ryuji!" the woman said with a voice as pleasant as her smile. "I wasn't expecting you!"

"'Sup, ma!" Ryuji replied with a wave of his hand and a smirk that was less cocky and more genuinely friendly. "Hope we're not intruding so early."

"Not at all. I'm not exactly at standing room only yet, after all. Come, have a seat."

"Thanks, ma. Come on, man," he addressed Akira, "she don't bite."

"I'm just not that kind of lady," she giggled, flashing her bright, large eyes at Akira, whose heart seemed to swim up his throat at the sight. Before he even realized what was happening, his mind still thoroughly addled by the woman before them, he was seated at the bar, inches away from this "Ma". "So," she began as the boys sat down, "what bring you in today, Ryuji-kun? And who is this strapping young man you've brought to me?"

I think my stomach is melting, along with my brain, Akira thought.

"This guy? Newbie, green as that other dress you've got. It's his first day on the job and I'm showing him the ropes."

"And does this guy have a name?" Ma looked to Akira with a sweet, but somehow not sweet at all grin.

Akira's tongue felt like it was dissolving in his mouth and his face as if the muscles in it were lighting themselves on fire. He did not notice Ryuji trying not to laugh at the sight. "It's Kurusu Akira," he finally spoke up. "I'm, uh, the newbie."

"You can say that again," Ryuji muttered.

Ma giggled a girlish laugh again. "Oh, don't be so rough on him, Ryuji. It takes time for everyone to get used to me. You are definitely no exception, after all."

"Ma, we really don't need to talk about that—"

"He looked ready to pass out when he first met me," Ma addressed Akira, completely ignoring Ryuji's embarrassed plea. "Granted, that's not uncommon, but that image of poor Ryuji-kun is burned into my memory."

"Ma, please—"

"No, no!" Akira interjected enthusiastically. "Keep going, I'm interested now!"

"Ah shit," Ryuji leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and looking to everything in the room except the two people beside him.

Ma leaned on the counter toward Akira, making her sizable bust only more pronounced. "When Ryuji first walked in here about a year ago, he looked like all the blood in his poor little body rushed right into his face. I swear, I thought it was all gonna come pouring out his nose! I had so much fun keeping him flustered the whole night. They say we live in a man's world, but even the strongest bodybuilder isn't immune to a woman giving him a bit of attention." Akira could not help but snicker at the rousing tale being weaved by this gorgeous tease of a woman. "But of course, it wasn't to be mean or rude. I treated him like family, gave him half off the majority of the menu, and he's been a faithful customer ever since."

"Is all that true?" Akira asked Ryuji.

He rubbed his eyes and groaned before he replied. "Yup," he said curtly. "It's all true."

Akira could not help but laugh, clutching his gut as he did. Even Ma let out a little laugh with him, though not nearly as heartily as the young man. "You know what, Ryuji?" Akira said while trying to calm himself down. "I'm glad you took me out here after all."

"This isn't at all what I brought you here for though!" Ryuji glowered at him, causing both Akira and Ma to laugh even more so.

"Okay, okay," Ma butted in, "I think that's enough humor at Ryuji-kun's expense for the day. Don't wanna go scaring off one of my best customers after all."

"Aw, c'mon, you don't have anything else to tell? No more fun stories at all?"

"No, she doesn't," Ryuji answered for her as quickly as he could. "Ma, we done?"

"Indeed, Ryuji, I think we are," she replied sweetly. Akira sucked in his breath to force himself to stop laughing. "Now, Ryuji-kun, you say this boy is new? I assume you're not here for drinks and hostesses before noon, after all."

Ryuji cleared his throat as the thorough mockery he had endured finally ended. "Yeah, he's the new guy. First day on the job and I'm the one that was told to show him around town. Something about me being his age and under a year of employment myself."

"Well, look at you, being all responsible," Ma smiled at him, though neither man could tell how genuine her smile was. "Akira, right? What do you think of Ryuji so far?"

"He's, uh, much more knowledgeable about this stuff than I am. I've spent the last hour just shadowing him, mainly. Didn't event tell me we were going before we arrived here. He didn't even tell me about you."

"And for good reason, man," Ryuji answered for Ma. "You noticed that this place was closed when we arrived here, right?"

"Well, yeah. I also noticed you had a key to get us in."

"I do, and that's 'cause this place is a bit of a haven for ourselves and the other Sakura guys." Ryuji's embarrassed scowl softened as he looked back to Ma, who still wore a bright, caring smile on her face, this time appearing completely genuine. "Ma here has been an associate of the Boss for god knows how long, and the first thing newbies like you are taught is where to go in case things get hairy. If you get yourself in a bad situation, Akira, and there's no gunshots involved yet, this will probably be the best place to go to lay low while things blow over."

"Really?"

Ma answered for Ryuji this time. "Indeed, Akira-kun. My family has had a trusted friendship with the Sakura clan for generations. Even Boss himself likes to come down here about once a week. He knows just as well as everyone that I'm the woman of the house, and nothing bad happens to those in my care in my place."

"Ah, that why Ryuji calls you 'Ma'?"

"That's right. And if you're a new member of the Sakura family, I expect the exact same from you as well. Even Boss calls me Ma, you know."

"Ain't no club or bar in Kamurocho will treat one of us as well as this little joint, man," Ryuji said almost whimsically. "I'll bet you and I are gonna spend a lot of time here not long from now."

"But why is this place a haven? Can't anyone come in here, at least during operating hours?"

"That's true," Ma said, "but Boss and his clan have almost complete control over this part of town. Every yakuza and even most common street thugs and goons know that there are some places here you just don't cause trouble in, and my little club is that paramount of them all."

"Good to know. I'll try to stay out of trouble, but just in case, I'll remember your club, uh, Ma." Gonna need some time to get used to that.

"Uh, yeah, about that…" Ryuji trailed off.

"Huh, what?"

"We, uh, might be in some trouble, man."

"Ryuji!" Ma put her hands on her hips and looked down at the blond man disapprovingly. "You went and got yourself in trouble and didn't even tell your student?"

"It was before I met up with him, Ma!" Ryuji protested. Akira's eyes widened at the implication, and he waited on baited breath for an explanation. Ryuji's gaze shifted between Ma and Akira as he spoke. "Look, I was on my way to meet up with Akira this morning when some low-life thugs stopped me on the street and tried to mug me. I gave 'em a light thrashing 'cause that was enough to get 'em to lay off, then I went and met up with Akira. But as we were walking around," he looked Akira dead in the eyes, "and you stared off into space the whole way here rather than keeping track of the situation, I noticed the same guys start following us about half-way here, with a couple reinforcements just to add to the mess. I was gonna take you to get some more business done, but I didn't wanna throw a newbie like you into a fight in your first hour on the job, so I decided now would be as good a time as any to take you by Ma's."

"And that's why we were walking around so long, huh?"

Ryuji nodded. "At least you noticed that."

"Why didn't you tell me though?"

"I figured you being stuck in your own little world would make it look a little less suspicious and maybe keep them off our trail. You're new, so you haven't learned how to hide in plain sight yet when someone is scoping you out, so I let you daydream the whole way here 'cuz if I told you what was up, you'd probably look like you were trying to go unnoticed at best."

For a brief moment, Akira felt slightly insulted by that statement, but that offense quickly faded as he thought about the situation. "You were probably right," he conceded.

"I may not be the smartest guy in the family, but I've got my moments."

"More than you give yourself credit for, Ryuji-kun," Ma said gently. "That was good thinking."

"Just don't go daydreaming on the job again, man," Ryuji added in a stern voice. "You're a yakuza, you gotta be on top of your game all the time."

"I hear you." Though you shouldn't call me a yakuza. I'm not some punk they lifted off the streets. This is temporary arrangement, at best. "So, what do we do now?"

Ma replied before Ryuji got a chance. "You can wait here for a while, if you need to. I won't be opening for hours and don't have any appointments or meetings for a while."

"Thanks, Ma, that might be best, at least for Akira here."

"The hell? Why me?" Akira asked, growing more concerned the more the conversation went on. "You really think they've been stalking us this long?"

"It's definitely possible. These kinds of goons ain't got anything better to do with their time, mostly just being dumb high school dropouts trying to nab some money without getting a real job. And when you piss these guys off like I did, they'll sometimes spend days hunting down the guy that kicked 'em to the curb, mainly if they're around their age like we are. Look man, I'm not gonna throw you to the trash of this city on your first day, so why don't you stay here and get some food in you while I go out and take care of these dumbasses? This ain't even your fight, after all."

"Maybe, but I can handle myself in a fight, Ryuji," Akira said in a serious, determined tone. "Trust me. I'm no high school dropout but that doesn't mean I spent my whole life on my ass. You said it yourself they brought friends with them, right? Let me go and I'll help you out."

Ryuji raised an eyebrow, but not quite in a way that would indicate he was opposed to the idea. "For real?"

Ma sighed and put her face in her hand. "You boys and your fights," she said. "But I guess that Boss will expect you to clean up your own mess, Ryuji. You're a big boy, after all." Ma suddenly leaned over the counter again, peering deep into Akira's dark eyes, which widened to the shape of plates at her forwardness.

"Uh, Ryuji? What's she doing?"

"Didn't expect her to do it so soon," he said, more curious than concerned, as if ignoring Akira's alarm.

Ma narrowed her gaze as she studied Akira, taking in his whole face but focusing intently on his eyes. "When you've been in this business as long as I have," she said slowly, her hot breath meeting Akira's lips, "you come to know how to see the real spirit in people. What makes them what they truly are."

Akira's shocked expression hardened into a glare, but not of anger. He did not feel threatened by the woman, but challenged, as if she was peering past his face and deep, deep inside him like digging for treasure. "What do you mean?" he asked just as slowly as she spoke.

"We are not just blood and bone, Akira. There is something in us all that defines what we are, who we are, and who and what we will become. I take pride and enjoyment from seeing the history and future of all our new yakuza just by looking into their eyes, a skill I received from my mother, and her from her mother. You are…" she trailed off for a moment, "very special, Kurusu Akira. Eyes like yours are rarely seen in these times." Ma stood upright and looked down at Ryuji. "Take him to fight with you, Ryuji. He'll be just fine."

"How do you know that?" Akira blurted out. "All you did was get in my space!"

"C'mon, man," Ryuji put a hand on his shoulder, "time to head out. If Ma thinks you'll make it out of this fight fine, I trust her."

Akira was now more confused than ever, barely able to formulate a thought about the past minute. He looked down to the floor, taking mental inventory of what had happened and what seemingly was about to happen. There's gonna be a fight. At least, I guess there will be. But hey, if it's my first morning on the job and they have that much faith in me, well, it's gotta count for something, right? He looked back up to Ryuji. "Let's get it done quick then," he said with confidence he did not intend, but felt right all the same.

"Just what I like to hear. I'm gonna need lunch soon." The two young men stood to their feet, backs straight and gazes steely. Ma only nodded at the boys.

"Be careful you two," she said. "And Akira?"

"Yeah, Ma?"

"Know that you are strong, boy," she said with uncharacteristic seriousness, "but do not think you are invincible. When you overestimate yourself, you have already lost the fight."

Akira paused at the dire nature of the warning, but nodded. This was all weird, very weird, but if he was really in for a fight, might as well make sure he was as mentally ready as he could be on top of his physical readiness. "Thanks, Ma," he said. "I'll remember that."

"Always remember that. And both you boys come back here when you're done! I want to see with my own eyes that you're both okay."

Ryuji smirked and waved his hand to her. "We'll be back before you know it, Ma. Keep the stoves hot and the drinks cold, could ya?" Ma smiled and nodded. Ryuji then turned to Akira with a confident grin. "Ready for your garbage cleanup, man?"

"I'll do everything I can," he nodded and could not help but smirk in turn.

"Good thing." Ryuji held out his fist to Akira. "I can't wait to see that fighting experience you were talking about. I expect to hear some bones cracking."

"You'll hear it," Akira bumped their fists together, "and same goes for you."

"Right on, now let's get moving. See you in a few, Ma."

Without another word, the two young yakuza stepped out onto the crowded streets. Almost reflexively, as he could feel the adrenaline start to pump through his veins, Akira cracked his knuckles as he and Ryuji walked out onto the mean streets of Kamurocho with heads held high and eyes glaring dead ahead. Passersby stepped out of their way as the two sharply dressed young men waded right through the center of the crowds like nobility among peasants. The feeling was completely alien to Akira; never before had he felt so empowered, so respected. Men stepped back out of their way, women watched them with cautious but fascinated stares. Ryuji seemed completely used to such things, but Akira was trying desperately hard not to call attention to himself by turning his walking into more of a strut or humming some film-like theme music.

Ryuji lit another cigarette and let out a puff of smoke, and Akira followed along, but this time at his side rather than lagging behind. Ma seemed completely confident that he was "strong" and "special", whatever those referred to, and Akira felt some strange internal obligation to see that reading through. Whatever lay in wait for him at the end of their path, he was not going to let them overpower him. Was this the mindset of a yakuza? Probably, and it both scared and fascinated him that the notion felt good. Damn good.

His first fight awaited him, and that knowledge felt damn good.

{Feedback is always encouraged!}


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Back-alley Business

"So what's our plan of attack, Ryuji?" Akira asked as they ducked into an alley. "We just gonna run them down when we find them?"

"Not exactly," Ryuji tossed his cigarette butt aside as they walked down a small flight of stairs into a small pathway. Trash lined the alley, the back exits of multiple restaurants and businesses making up the walls of the alleyway. "They're probably gonna wanna shoot the shit at first, exchange taunts and all that kind of stuff, then they'll rush us and we'll lay them out. Trust me, these guys aren't gonna be anything close to martial arts masters. They're just punks, nothing more."

"And exactly how many times have you done this to be so confident in this?" Akira asked with a smirk, which Ryuji returned in kind.

"I lost count around fourteen. That was two, maybe three months ago."

"God, this city has that many dumb kids looking to make a quick buck?"

"Trust me, man," they rounded a corner, hands in pockets, "street thugs and dropouts are gonna be the least of your worries in this city." As they came upon another alleyway, Akira and Ryuji saw a group of five young men, all around their age, leaning against opposite brick walls near the exit of the alley. They wore grungy, dirty tracksuits and casual wear, with three of the five sporting unforgivably tacky sunglasses. "That's our guys," Ryuji muttered, "but two of them are new. The two bigger ones at that, just our luck."

"They're big, so they'll be slower," Akira retorted confidently.

"Right on, man." Ryuji and Akira strutted forward with an almost cocky swagger, and it was only when they were a few feet away from the group of hoodlums that they were noticed. "Hey there, fuckasses!" Ryuji called to them upon being spotted. "You get lost on the way back to juvie from your probation or something?"

The five goons stood up in unison, already glowering at Ryuji for his crass introduction. "You!?" exclaimed the one at the front, a highschooler by the looks of him, with slicked back, gel laden hair and criminally awful shades on his peach fuzz riddled face. "What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"You must be new, kid," Ryuji smirked. "This is the most predictable, stereotypical, downright stupid hiding spot for any of the new muggers and thugs on these streets. Everyone like you has skulked around here when they were starting out. This poor alley has seen more brawls than most boxing rings, man!"

"So you just come around to talk shit?" said one of the bigger, fatter goons of the bunch.

"Not just that, but it is a part of it, I'll admit."

"And who's your boyfriend, eh?" asked another thuggish young man, this one seeming to be the oldest by his demeanor and more comprehensibly fashion sense. "He come to watch his man get ganged?" he cracked his knuckles in his palms.

"Like hell, I am," Akira answered for Ryuji, stepping forward with more aggression in his voice and stance than his companion, who still maintained some cocky composure. "You idiots are causing trouble in our town, meaning you probably don't know who's really in charge around here, do ya?"

"In charge?" asked a thug, smaller than the others and with a higher pitched voice to match. "What, you mean the Prime Minister or something?"

"Oh, I think you kids know perfectly well who's in charge," Ryuji said in a low tone, cracking his knuckles as well. His cocky smirk turned to a stern, burning glower. "You're in yakuza territory, boys! Specifically, the territory of the Sakura clan, the oldest and most respected clan in Kamurocho," he pointed to the group emphatically with a deadly gaze in his eyes, "and none of you's been paying your rightful dues."

Akira expected another snarky response from the delinquents, but no such retort came. Instead, they looked to each other with a twinge of fear in their eyes, all five of them apparently having a simultaneous moment of clarity. "You're, uh," stammered the one in front, "yakuza?"

"Of course we are, brainiac," Ryuji replied. "You think these suits my companion and I are wearing came from your kind of work? Walking around the streets acting all gruff and tough, maybe shoplifting some poor old lady's storefront? Hell no! We're way too into the big time for that kind of stuff!" Ryuji stepped forward again, craning and cracking his neck as he came closer to the now visibly fearful goons. "Now, since intros are out of the way, who here is gonna pay up? You kids have taxes to catch up on."

"Hey, fuck you, man!" shouted the fatter one from the back. "You got no right to call us kids! We look as old as you and your boytoy! Just because you're yakuza doesn't mean everyone in the city belongs to you!" He paused then, and then the fat one smirked at Ryuji, who raised an eyebrow in response. "If you two are really such important yakuza," he began, "then you probably got a good amount of cash on you. That is, if you're not talking out of your ass this whole time. Even if you are, then we can at least teach you pricks some manners." The four other delinquents mumbled to themselves, then joined their friend in smirking at Akira and Ryuji. Both lowered their stances slightly in preparation for the inevitable.

"Finally done talking, punk?" Ryuji asked. "Alright then, why don't we get this over with?"

"And you still wanna fight!? It's five on two, moron!"

Akira stepped forward next to his friend, cracking his knuckles in imitation of Ryuji. "I like those odds."

"Cocky son of a bitch," the fat one grumbled. "You both won't be talking at all after we're done!"

"Just shut up and fight already!" Akira blurted out.

The goons roared and took their first steps forward, and yet all the world seemed to slow. Since he was five years old, Akira's mother had taught him martial arts every day, engraining every movement, every stance into his muscle memory. But the first thing he could remember, and something she reiterated almost every lesson of his life, was that "Victory or defeat can be decided by pausing for even just one second to examine your opponent's moves". Her words rang in his head as he saw two smaller men charging up to him. Both brought their right arms back into sloppy looking punches, and with that he already knew how best to take them out. They're moving so quickly and erratically, meaning they have no plan or strategy. The fact that these two immediately tried to attack with their right arms means that's their natural preference, and that their left side will be more vulnerable.

As the two goons strikes began to bear down on him, Akira planted his feet and raised his arms, flexing and tensing his muscles as he assumed his stance. Less than a half second after his strength was mustered, the punches connected with his forearms, but he did not even budge, barely even felt it. With that, he relaxed his muscles and let his new flexibility propel him into better movement, kicking the goon on his left in the left knee, then jabbing the tip of his elbow into the arm of the one on his right. The goon on the left howled in pain as both he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Before the one on the right could react, he felt something like a small rock suddenly pound his gut. As his mouth filled with saliva and bile, unable to scream as the wind was knocked out of him as still stood, he looked down and saw Akira's dark hair at about the height of his shoulder. Then for the slightest moment, their eyes met before Akira sent a powerful uppercut into the goon's jaw, breaking three of his teeth and knocking him on his back.

Akira shook off his hand, dispersing the pain that was building up in his bones when Ryuji knocked his assailant to the ground as well with an unoriginal but powerful kick in the chest. Together, they stood at each other's backs as the two biggest goons remaining displayed that same look of fear once again. Akira composed himself and smirked. "Who's next?"

The biggest one, seemingly the leader of the bunch, growled at them like an animal. "You bastards! You'll pay for that!" Akira and Ryuji looked at each other for a moment. Then they laughed. And they laughed some more. "Hey, stop laughing! I SAID STOP IT!"

"I mean," Ryuji sputtered, trying to calm himself down, "you just sound like a," he burst out laughing again, placing a hand on Akira's shoulder, "a freakin' anime character, tubby!" With that, both young men laughed even harder, Akira holding his gut and Ryuji facepalming.

"Tubby" roared again and began to charge, pushing his last standing friend into a wall as he barreled toward the two young yakuza. In a split second, Akira and Ryuji ceased their laughter and locked eyes with the bear of a man charging them. Ryuji pushed Akira aside and used the momentum to aid in his sidestep. Tubby ran right in between the two boys, stepping on the gut of one of his men, who cried out in gargling pain. Tubby reflexively stopped in his tracks to check on his friend, and that second of a pause was all the boys needed for a synchronized kick in the back of the knee.

Tubby stumbled forward and fell to his knees. Nothing was broken, but it sure felt like it to him. His legs seared in fiery pain and he bit his tongue hard as came to the ground, causing his mouth to fill with blood. Through bleary eyes, he saw the two young yakuza come into his vision, both smirking like the cocky bastards they were. "Who… who are you?"

"We already went over this, big guy," Ryuji deadpanned. He rolled up his sleeve and rotated his shoulder, with Akira bringing himself to a fighting stance. "When you wake up, remember to get the hell out of town until you can pay the taxes, okay? It'll be easier for everyone." Ryuji looked to Akira and winked, with his friend nodding in response. They both turned back to the goon. "Lights out, tubby!" In perfect synchronisity, Akira and Ryuji let out a punch with the maximum amount of force they could muster right into Tubby's eyes, who was launched backward so hard his back bent near enough to contort his spine before he came to rest on the ground.

Ryuji and Akira breathed deeply, the physical demands of their fight now starting to catch up with them when they noticed one more thug cowering against the wall he had been pushed against. His legs quivered as he looked between the groaning, bleeding pile that was his friends and the two yakuza agents that had just laid them all out. Then, his eyes met Akira's steely gaze. "Boo," the black haired man said. With a whimper that turned into a garbled cry, the goon took off out of the alley and bolted down the street, abandoning his friends and leaving the yakuza standing alone over a heap of heaving bodies.

Akira ran a hand through his hair, straightening it back into place after it had been messed up by the fight. "No honor among thieves, I guess."

"Doesn't matter, we won, man," Ryuji snarked, bumping his companion on the shoulder. "I'd love to praise how badass you looked when you combo'd the poor sucker, but we probably should get moving before the cops show up, ya know? Bad for our image."

"I was just gonna ask about that," Akira replied with the two of them racing off back down the alley, and towards Serenity.

As they approached the bar, both young men straightened their jackets and double checked their hair in the reflection of a window. While Akira had only just met Ma, he already felt some kind of respect for the woman, to the point that showing up at her door unkempt seemed… inappropriate and garish. Fully composed and presentable, Ryuji once again unlocked the door with his key and the two men stepped through the doorway.

"Hey, Ma!" Ryuji called out with a wave of his hand and a smile. "We're back!"

Emerging from the door to the office was the lady in question, who's face lit up with delight upon seeing her customers. "You both are, after all!" she exclaimed. "And looking none the worse for wear at that!"

"Did you expect any less?" Ryuji snarked. "It was just some common thugs, nothing special. Didn't take more than a minute before they were dealt with."

"Is this true, Akira?" she addressed the quieter teen. "Ryuji does have a habit of inflating his exploits."

"Pfft, says you," Ryuji muttered under his breath.

Akira simply grinned at the older woman and nodded. "Yes, it's exactly true. They were just some hoodlums causing trouble, and we took care of them quickly with no harm to ourselves. Sorry to have worried you, Ma," he bowed respectfully.

"Oh, don't bow to me, Akira. There's no need right now. I'm just glad to know my boys are safe, that's all I need from you."

"You're took kind, Ma," Akira replied pleasantly.

"Speaking of which," Ryuji added, "would you perhaps be kind enough to whip up some food for us, Ma? All this walking around and stuff has made me starving, and I'm sure the same goes for Akira."

"Oh, only if it's not imposing on you, that is," Akira interjected, causing Ma to only chuckle.

"It's never imposing on me to make some food for my kids, Akira," she smiled that angelic smile. "I'd be far more offended were you to not ask me for anything. Just grab a seat in the lounge and I'll be out in a few."

Ryuji brought his fingers to his lips and blew the lady a kiss, still smirking as ever. "Thanks, Ma. You're the best, but you knew that already."

"See, I told you you're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Ryuji-kun," she blew him a kiss in turn along with one for Akira and disappeared into the kitchen.

Akira looked to his friend and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You two seem very… close," he remarked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I suppose that's how it would look." Ryuji took a seat in the small lounge area next to the karaoke machine. He leaned back in the leather seat and sighed contentedly. Akira sat down as well, immediately feeling more relaxed, likely due to the calming, quiet atmosphere given off by the low-key lighting and classy, tasteful adornments all around the lounge. In between himself and Ryuji was a small table perfect for holding small glasses of sake or other sampler drinks and dishes.

"So, you're saying you and Ma aren't very close?"

"Oh no, not at all," Ryuji replied nonchalantly, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. Akira had only seen him intense or cocky as of yet, so this relaxed, casual demeanor was rather refreshing. "Ma's been looking out for me ever since I joined up about a year ago. This bar is… almost like a home away from home now, even though I have an apartment a few blocks from here. Ever since day one, Ma has been giving me that same boy-killing smile every time I walk in here, a lot like she was being with you, actually."

"You don't say."

"No, seriously." Ryuji opened his eyes again and stretched his arms, groaning in release as he did. "She may be super pleasant with most people," he said as he relaxed again, "but it ain't like it was for you with everyone, man. She can be the queen bitch of the place if she doesn't like someone, let me tell ya, especially if you're not from the Sakura clan. But what I'm really talking about is all that 'strength and honor' stuff or whatever it was she said. God knows what she meant by it, even I haven't gotten much of a clue."

"What, she didn't read your fortune the day you came in?" Akira replied sarcastically. "You seemed to know what she was doing. In fact, I wanted to ask about that."

Ryuji nodded. "She does that fortune telling stuff with only her most special subjects. And no, she didn't give me one on my first day. Took about three months of work before she told me my fortune, or however she refers to it."

"And what did she tell you?"

Ryuji chuckled and wagged his finger at Akira. "Classified, man. That's a bit above your pay grade."

"But you watched her tell me mine!"

"Very true, but it was also a bit more vague than mine. Sorry, man. One day, I promise."

Akira nodded in turn and leaned back in his seat. "I getcha. Sounds like it was more personal."

"I'd say so," Ryuji muttered in a quieter tone than normal.

As Akira was trying to think of a way to follow up that conversation in a way that would not possibly offend his companion, Ma came through the door holding a small sampler platter of tempura and vegetables, wearing the same beautiful smile she had left with.

"Sorry for the wait, boys," she crooned. "Had to take a call first. I hope it's all to your liking." Ma grinned from ear to eat as she placed the platter down on the table. The scent of the food flowed into Akira's nose; dear God above, that alone was almost enough to make the young man ravenous. The orange color and all its accents seemed to glow in the low golden hued lighting. His eyes widened and his mouth watered as he gazed upon the culinary delight in front of him. "Akira?" Ma's voice snapped him back to reality. "Aren't you going to try it? Does it not look appetizing to you?"

Blushing a deep red and chest tightening with embarrassment, Akira waved his hands in front of him frantically for a moment. "No, no, no! Not at all, Ma!" he tried to defuse the situation that was actually far more dire in his head than in reality. Ryuji noticed this and grinned at the humorous display as he took a slow, thoughtful bite of the tempura, savoring the warmth, the texture and especially the flavor. It was far from the first time he had enjoyed Ma's cooking, but no matter how many times he did he never grew the slightest bit tired of it.

Akira quickly took a bite as well, and once the faintly salty but oh so succulent flavor assaulted his senses from the inside out, he felt his entire body melt in warmth, as if his very soul was being treated to a perfectly heated bath. He did not even notice Ma giggling above him at his extremely visible show of appreciation for her work. She simply bowed to her customers and made her way back to the office with a bounce in her step.

After a few moments of eating, the silence only being broken by the sounds of the two young men chowing down on their meal, Ryuji finally spoke up. "So, Akira, what did you think of your first morning on the job?"

"Hmm?" he looked up from his food. "Oh, uh," Akira wiped his mouth off quickly with a napkin, "it was… interesting. I'm still not calling myself a full yakuza, at least officially, but I can't argue that running with you doesn't seem to have its perks."

"Running with me has perks? Ha! You should see the kind of stuff that guys with actual seniority get up to! Especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Shit, from what I've heard through the grapevine, just one night out with some of the bigger dogs in the clan would bleed my life savings dry."

"I can believe it." At the mention of money, Akira had a sudden and all together unpleasant moment of realization. "Wait, how much do I owe you for the food? I can't imagine this place costs the same a Big Bang Burger."

"Get out of town, man," Ryuji waved his hand with a smirk. "It's on me, consider it a company expense. A business outing. It's your orientation, so of course I'm not gonna charge ya for the meal. Well, I wouldn't anyway, but I got a bit of extra funds for today, so it's not even coming out of my wallet."

"Oh. Well, that's convenient."

"Yeah, just don't go getting used to it. We don't do a lot of freebies."

"I didn't think so."

"At least you're catching on." Ryuji took a long sip of water to wash down the last of his half of the dish. "But you never really answered my question. What did you think of your first morning on the job?"

Akira sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, trying to think of a suitable way to answer his new friend. "It's… It doesn't fully sit right with me."

"How so?"

"Don't you already have an idea? I'm a criminal, working for criminals, and with criminals."

"Ooh, yeah," Ryuji nodded his head. "Crisis of morality going on in that noggin?"

"It's not just that. I've never done anything wrong, unless you count defending a helpless woman, like the law seemed to that night. Yeah, I'm not perfect by a longshot, but I'm not a criminal."

"But you do now have two cases of assault and battery under your belt."

Akira sighed, Ryuji's assessment stinging him to the core. "You have a point… I guess."

"I know I do. Listen, man, I personally don't think you defending that lady was wrong, even though I don't really know the whole story. But I can tell ya that I may be a yakuza, but I would never try to get it on with an unwilling girl. Hell, I've curbstomped guys for just that a couple times. But what you gotta know is that in this world, not just the yakuza's but the world at large, guys as young as us don't make the rules." He leaned forward in his seat, an intense expression painting itself on his face. "Our perception, our opinions on the world and what happens in it, even our own lives, doesn't really matter 'cuz we're not the ones that make the final judgment call. It's those in power above us that do.

"You can thank your lucky stars that you had some kind of connection in the Sakura clan, 'cuz that meant that someone with the power to make that kind of judgment call was there to back you up, or at least get you the hell out of dodge." Ryuji took a deep breath to calm himself, then took out and lit another cigarette. "Maybe your mom never taught you this," he blew out a small puff of smoke, "but you gotta play the cards your dealt, Akira. Doesn't matter what everyone else in the game has in their hands or under the table, you just gotta make the most of what you got."

"You come up with that one by yourself?"

"Honestly, no. I heard it somewhere, but that's beside the point. What is the point, is that you got yourself in some deep shit, my guy, and now you claw your way out. How are you gonna do that? Well, for what my opinion is worth, the only option you got is running with us, and that crisis of morality ain't gonna help ya."

"Yeah, I know." Akira's expression soured, but Ryuji seemed unphased by it. "I laid awake for God knows how long last night thinking about that. Probably a thousand times I told myself it's all bullshit, that there's no way I'm stuck with this hand, as you said. But now, I don't know. I—" He cut off there before he got too heated. His voice had already been rising his intensity as he began his tirade, but he caught himself before he truly began shouting the place down. "Fuck," he murmured.

"Amen to that, man," Ryuji snarked with another puff of his cigarette. "I can't honestly say I've been in your position before. I joined up of my own free will. Shit, I counted myself lucky when they brought me on. But what I do know is that your little crisis ain't gonna do you any favors in your new line of work, Akira. All we did was get a bit of cash from a small business and took down some street thugs barking up the wrong tree. Trust me, that's saintly compared to some of the guys I've met or heard about."

"Is that supposed to cheer me up?"

"No. It's supposed to give you some perspective."

Akira's head almost hurt from the absorption of information and "perspective". To say he was uncomfortable with the implications of the conversation and his current situation would be a massive understatement. Even the calming atmosphere of Serenity seemed to wane as Ryuji spoke. "Would you count yourself among those 'guys', Ryuji?"

Ryuji chuckled in his throat, looking away from Akira for a moment. "You'll go far in this business, man," he replied slowly. "Not many newbies would have the cast iron balls to ask a question like that to their seniors day one."

"Why?"

"'Cus it just ain't polite, Akira. Trade secret, ya know?"

"So is that a yes?"

Ryuji chuckled again, louder than previously. "Ask me another time."

"And when will that be, might I ask?"

"You'll know, man," Ryuji muttered in a low, almost inaudible tone. "You'll know. Hey, Ma?" he called to the office. "Check please! New boy's on his way out!"

"Wait, I am?"

"Yup, that's all I got for ya today, Akira. No offense, just some work left that's a little above your paygrade." As he finished his sentence, Ma came back with the check. Akira did not even have time to see the total before Ryuji took it and signed it, taking his wallet from his inside pocket and placing about fourty thousand yen on the check. Ryuji then took one of the napkins on the table and wrote down something on it quickly with the pen before placing it back on the tray for the check. Ma bent down to pick up the tray and the platter, giving both boys a revealing look at her cleavage and planting a light kiss on Ryuji's cheek. She turned around and smiled at Akira with lightly puckered lips before taking the things in hand.

"Have a good day, Ryuji," Ma said with a bow. "Stay out of trouble, at least try to."

"Will do, Ma," Ryuji replied. "Thanks for everything." He turned to Akira, his pleasant smile for Ma fading slightly. "Go to this address," he handed Akira the napkin, "that's the last part of your orientation for the day."

Akira looked at the napkin, seeing "459 Shushin St." scribbled onto it. "What's there that I need?"

"The lifeblood of every yakuza, and nothing less," Ryuji stated as he stood to his feet. "Stay out of fights on the way there, and same goes for your walk back to leBlanc. You're not that high up the food chain yet that the cops know who you are on sight, so they probably won't let it slide if you get caught."

"Noted," Akira replied flatly. "So, is this some kind of errand run you're too busy to do yourself?"

"Hell no!" Ryuji said strongly, almost sounding offended. "Dude, I thought we were friends! Is that really how you think of me?"

"No, no, God, sorry," Akira stammered more than he intended. "Man, I'm really great at putting my foot in my mouth, huh?"

"You just gotta learn the way of things around here, dude. But, learn it quickly, okay? Don't wanna embarrass yourself in front of a less understanding member of the family." With that, he walked right past Akira and toward the door, stopping just after opening it to the outside. "See ya around, Kurusu Akira!" he called back. "Don't have too much fun now, ya hear?"

Ryuji walked through the doorway, leaving Akira all alone in the lounge.

The raven-haired man got to his feet after a moment and also made his way to the door, but he stopped as it felt improper to leave without thanking his hostess. "Ma?" he called out once, waiting a moment for a reply. "Uh, thanks for the food! And the hospitality!"

"Oh, Akira!" came Ma's voice from the other side of the wall. "Wait just a moment!"

"Eh, okay!" A moment passed, and Akira could hear rummaging from the other side of the wall. Despite how it may have looked, he tapped his foot as he leaned against the door, looking around the lounge absentmindedly. Ma then walked through the office door, noticeably holding a small giftwrapped box.

"I was hoping I would be able to catch you before you left," Ma beamed. "I'd like you to have this, Akira."

"Huh?" Akira was genuinely, perfectly confused. In Ma's hand was a box about the size of his palm, wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a little red bow tied around it. "What's that? Normally, I'd expect me to be the one paying you something for hosting me."

"This isn't payment, Akira, but a gift. Something very important that I can't let you leave without."

"Uh… huh," Akira let out slowly with an equally slow nod of the head. "Might I ask again what this is? All I wanted was to thank you for being such a great host before I left."

"It's a present, silly! I can't tell you what it is, it would spoil the surprise! However, I will tell you that you should wait until you get home to open it."

"Why's that?"

"Just trust your Ma, okay, Akira-kun?" she replied in that siren's call of a voice. Akira knew she was using some sort of power of persuasion on him, but he accepted the compelled feeling within him nonetheless, taking the small, extremely light box in his hand.

"Okay, I trust you."

"Wonderful! Now, hop to it, Akira! I'm sure you have plenty of important business to get to now."

"Just an errand, honestly. Ryuji just told me to head this address," he indicated the napping in his hand.

"Well then, you definitely should get going. Have a good day now, hon! And do stay safe, will you?"

God, she really is like a mother. Eh, could be a lot worse. "I promise, Ma. Thank you again for the food and hospitality," he bowed respectfully.

"And thank you for coming, Akira-kun. Don't ever be a stranger, okay? You're welcome anytime, no matter how early or late. I live in the apartment above us after all."

"I'll remember that, thank you," Akira smiled.

"You'd do well to. Now, off you go! Don't be late!"

Akira chuckled and nodded. "See you, Ma."

With that, he made his way back onto the street. Present in hand, Akira turned down the street toward a line of shops. On his way around town with Ryuji, he had seen signs for Shushin Street a couple blocks away from Serenity, so at least he knew where he was going. But it was hard to focus on direction when he wondered just what was in this little box he was carrying?

Might as well get this errand done quick, he thought to himself, if I wanna know what's in the box. What could be so important from a woman I just met? No, focus Akira. You gotta make a good impression, remember? Don't mess this up… whatever it is.

Shit, I'm actually taking this yakuza stuff seriously!

[Feedback and reviews are welcome!]


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

Layer Cake

Akira felt an alien sense of confidence as he strolled down the bustling street, about halfway to his destination given him by Ryuji. As it was earlier, and confirming to himself that it was not some kind of fluke or merely Ryuji's daunting presence, passersby made a point of leaving Akira alone. They still gave him sideways glances, women still ogled him occasionally while men looked down their noses at him. Save for one smirk given to a particularly crass passerby flipping him off, Akira did not interact with nor acknowledge those that passed him. His primary concern was whatever this errand for Ryuji entailed, which would soon be answered as he came across his destination.

The address of what seemed to be a little hole in the wall weapon shop matched exactly to the scribbles on the napkin. Atop the cement gray walls of the tiny place nestled in between two larger convenience stores was a sign reading "Untouchable" in jagged, almost off-putting letters. Akira raised an eyebrow, half-tempted to laugh at the edgy persona given off by just the storefront alone. Can't wait to see the manager, he mused as he pushed the door open.

A tiny bell rang, signaling his entrance as he stepped onto the hard, tiled floor. Lining the walls and shelves were guns upon knives upon guns upon more knives. Most appeared to be models and replicas, but Akira guessed that a little less than half the inventory had to be real. Just what the hell did Ryuji want me here for?

A few feet to his right sat a man. At least, he appeared to be a man. Peeking out over the top of a magazine depicting a beautiful, smiling, and almost concerningly youthful Japanese girl on the front was a cap with a pair of bulky, yellow headphones suspended on top of it. Akira got his first glimpse of the man's face when he lowered the magazine slightly, revealing a pair of grey, pale eyes emitting a glare as sharp as a katana. Akira felt goosebumps rub up his back as that icy gaze met his.

"Can I help ya?" the man asked without moving the magazine. His tone was low and gruff, suggesting a lifetime's worth of "I've seen some shit".

Akira swallowed in his throat, thinking through the next few seconds of his life carefully. "I was sent here," he said slowly, "by Ryuji. He didn't tell me why, just said to come here."

"Hmm," the man groaned. "Password," he looked back to the magazine.

"What?"

"Password," the man declared roughly, glaring at Akira again.

"Uh, Ryuji didn't give me a password," Akira grew a little more uncomfortable, and worried. "He didn't say anything about some password."

The man nodded then rubbed his temple. "Relax, kid, I'm just screwing with you," he replied slowly, his voice sounding slightly less gruff than before. Placing the magazine down, he finally revealed his face. A strong jaw, scruff covering his mouth, chin and cheeks, and a far more neutral expression than when Akira had arrived. "There's no password, I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"And did I pass the test?"

"Yeah, but barely." He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. "You got guts, kid, but you're gonna need a hell of a lot more of it."

"What, you reading my fortune or something?" Akira smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

The gruff man smirked back at him. "Okay, maybe you got a little more guts than I thought. Anyway, you got a name?"

"Akira Kurusu. What's yours?"

"Call me Iwai." The man Akira now knew as Iwai sat up in his chair and looked the young man up and down closely, seemingly scanning his every feature. "Ryuji already got you into trouble, Kurusu?" Iwai asked nonchalantly.

"Just a bit of a scrape. Is it that obvious?"

"Not to most people, no. But given that I know Ryuji, and your fancy ass suit is dusty, obviously recently by the looks of it, I just assumed. However, since you admit that you were in a fight, and all you got to show for it is some dust and wrinkles on your suit, I take it you were either taking on kids, or you actually know how to fight."

Damn, this guy's pretty perceptive. I don't want to end up on his bad side. Akira nodded. "My mom taught me how to fight practically since I could walk. That, and the guys we took on were just a bunch of high school goons who thought they owned the streets. All we did was give them something to think about."

Iwai chuckled, coming across as rather uncharacteristic to Akira. "Ryuji put you up to that?"

"Yeah, he said it was important, and that he wanted to see how I did in a fight."

"I guarantee you that was the most important part to him, kid. High schoolers who can barely pay for lunch every day really aren't that big a deal to our organization. Ryuji probably just wanted an opportunity to flex both your muscles."

"Honestly, I'm not surprised. I don't even have any idea what I'm doing here."

"Well, pretty sure you've noticed you're in a weapons shop by now."

Akira nodded and glanced around the room, taking interest in the guns and swords on the wall behind Iwai. "Hard not to. Though, it looks like most of these are models."

"You're right, most are. I buy replicas and other stuff like that then resell 'em. But I do stock some real honest to goodness weapons for my, well, more special clientele."

"Those being the yakuza," Akira crossed his arms.

Iwai nodded. "No sense in trying to put it past you; you are a family man now, after all."

"Family man?"

"That's what we call ourselves sometimes, exclusively when talking to other yakuza. We're all 'family men' because we belong to the family, from our minds to our bodies to our souls."

"Talk about a commitment."

"The same one you're apart of now, kid." Iwai got to his feet and stretched his arms, letting out a low groan. "Wait here for a moment, and don't touch anything."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Iwai opened the door behind him to some back room and disappeared, leaving Akira alone in the shop. Some low-quality elevator music played quietly over the speaks above him, and he could not tell if it made him feel more or less awkward. He spied the magazine Iwai had been looking at, laying closed on the counter. Getting a better look at it, Akira saw an admittedly very attractive Japanese girl with a radiant, sunny smile. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in pigtails, and she was clad in a very revealing bikini, giving Akira a good look at her… developed pale bust.

'Geez, what were they feeding this girl?' he thought. The credit on the photo simply said "Hitomi". 'Hmm, may need to keep that name in mind.'

"Hey!" Iwai's voice called from his side, startling Akira back to the real world. "Look at that stuff on your own time," he glared at him.

"Oh god, sorry!" Akira felt his face begin to burn in embarrassment, until Iwai chuckled.

"I'm just messing with you, kid. Again," he smirked. Akira was still only mostly sure his heart was still beating. However, his questionable heart attack did not keep him from noticing the small, rectangular package he held in his hand. It was about the size of his forearm, and seemed to be a brown, wooden box. "This is what Ryuji wanted you to pick up," he held it out to Akira. "Take it home with you, and don't open it until you arrive."

"Why's that?"

"Why do ya think? You're in a weapon shop, Akira."

"Oh!" Akira's eyes widened. "Is it a gun?"

Iwai's eyes narrowed, looking entirely unimpressed. "No," he said curtly. "I'm not giving some green footed punk off the street a nine-millimeter on his first day. It's just something to keep you safe when fists may not cut it. Everyone gets it when they start out, otherwise we'd have a lot more turnover."

Iwai handed the package to Akira, who took it in hand tentatively. The wood was incredibly smooth to the touch, and glistened in the light, obviously covered in some sort of resin. "I really doubt I have the money for this, Iwai. This looks like the box alone would be worth my life savings."

"That's why you're not paying for it."

"What?"

Iwai nodded. "It's taken care of. All you gotta do is get on back to your place."

"Who covered the cost though? Ryuji? Or…" he paused, "it was Boss, wasn't it?"

Iwai smirked and said, "Heh. Just head back home, kid. Have a good one," he waved his hand to Akira, both as a goodbye and act of dismissal, then picked up his magazine again and opened it, placing his feet on the counter. He pulled the headphones down over his ears and acted like Akira was no longer present.

The young man looked at Iwai with an eyebrow raised, then at the box in his hand. He could try pestering the gruff man for more information, yes, or he could just not cause trouble and go home. He was outside on the sidewalk a moment later.

Akira's legs were sore by the time he reached the front door of leBlanc. He walked in and saw the same huge guards that had "escorted" him the previous night standing outside the elevator. Slowly, and without making eye contact, he walked up to them, keeping his facial expression strong and cold. As he approached, the guard on the right, who was standing in front of the button panel, said in a low tone, "Going up?"

Akira stopped in front of them, his suspicion hopefully not completely apparent on his face. "Yes," he said slowly, "to my room."

The guard pressed a button on the panel behind him and folded his hands in front of himself. The elevator doors opened with a ding. "Have a good day," said the other guard. Akira was at a loss for how to react, simply thanking him and nodding before entering the elevator. He pressed the penthouse button on the panel inside and the door closed.

"The hell was that?" he said aloud as the elevator started to move.

Another ding and the doors opened again to the same lavish penthouse apartment Akira had somehow ended up staying in the previous night. It was quiet, a couple lights were on despite the midday sun shining brightly through the windows down the hall. Maybe Sojiro is back now? Maybe I'll at least get to ask him why he bought me this. Akira held up the box and looked at it again, then made his way to his room. He shut the door behind him and placed the box on the floor, sitting beside it.

Akira would be lying were he to say he was not at least curious about the contents of the box. He had gotten it from a weapon salesman, after all. He stroked his chin, considering the possibility of what could be inside. It was not a gun, he knew that much. So, the most likely possibility given its size and shape would be a knife. That's gotta be it. Akira slowly lifted the lid of the box, revealing its contents. His eyes widened as they fell on the object inside.

A thin case, the width of about two of his fingers, lay nestled in the inside of the box. A beautiful painting of a crimson koi fish swimming up a river surrounded by trees with deep violet flowers stretched across the entire object. The material it was made out of shimmered even in the dim light of his room, giving off a reflective quality as he could clearly see his face in the white parts of the object. "It's a sheath," Akira said aloud.

The young man picked it up, feeling just how perfectly smooth the sheath was, almost enough for it to slip out of his grasp. Inspecting the admittedly beautiful artwork on the sheath, he caught another glimpse of his face. He looked tired, his eyes had dark bags beneath them, his eyelids hung lower than usual. Then a much more pressing thought came to mind. "The hell am I doing?" he said aloud to no one. "I got a knife, from a yakuza, and I'm opening it in the home of a yakuza boss?! How… just how did any of this happen!?" he rubbed his temple and groaned at the absurdity of the situation he found himself in, but the knife remained in his hand. Akira looked at it again and sighed. "There's not exactly a way out of this right now," he said. He removed his hand from his face and took hold of the sheath, pulling the cover off.

As he pulled, a shining two-fold blade as clear as a mirror was revealed to him, creating an even more crisp image of himself on it. A line of Hiragana characters was engraved on the blade reading "自分が思っていた以上のものになる"

"Be more than what you thought you were," Akira read.

"That's the koi fish's dream," the voice of Sojiro said from Akira's right. The young man saw the enigmatic yakuza standing in his doorway, leaning against the frame with arms crossed. "Let me explain. It's said that if the koi fish can swim upriver over a waterfall, he will transform into a dragon."

"You don't say. I'm guessing you're the one that foot the bill for the knife?"

"Not exactly subtle, I'm aware," Sojiro nodded, "but you're gonna need a way to defend yourself that's a little more immediately threatening than your fists. With good luck, you'll never have to even pull that thing out of your pocket, but I'm not that much of a gambler," the old man chuckled.

"Hmph," Akira smirked. "Well, not that I'm not appreciative of the thought," he sheathed the blade and stood up, "but I'm still not exactly down with this whole business. You know that, right?"

"I do, but whether you're 'down with it' or not, you're gonna run into some unruly types eventually. But then again, you already have had a fun run in, haven't you, kid?"

Akira looked away and smacked his lips. "Word travels fast in this business, yeesh."

"I gave Ryuji a call while you were down at Iwai's and he gave me the whole story. Gotta be honest, I haven't seen the kid that excited in quite a while. He spoke very highly of you, both regarding your fighting skills and your personal skills."

"Well, consider me flattered," Akira shuffled his feet awkwardly. "He's not a bad guy either. A bit hot headed, but he seems to know what he's doing. Also pretty damn good at insults."

"That is a special talent of his," Sojiro chuckled again. "A little rough around the edges, but he's good at what he does. And given you two are the same age, I figured he'd be a good mentor for you."

"It definitely was an adventure," Akira let the smallest hint of a grin reach his face as he thought about the meal he and Ryuji shared, how Ma treated the both of them, and then how they pulverized those upstarts. His gut tingled with excitement at the memory of the rush of combat.

"Tell me, how did Ma treat ya?"

"Oh, Ma? She was… uh, very friendly."

"How friendly we talking here?

"Let's just say I can see why people call her 'Ma'. She's got that kind of motherly vibe about her, but almost in a sensual way, I guess. I'll bet she's very popular with your employees."

"Oh, she is, she is. But not everyone gets to enjoy her company. I'm very close to her family, so I keep her as far away from the nastier side of the business as I can. Meaning the rougher boys of the family don't get to see her much. But those that do are always itching to go down to Serenity for a drink after their done for the day, Ryuji especially."

"They did seem to have a pretty strong connection."

"Ma has a habit of taking the punkish boys like Ryuji under her wing. Hey, keeps everyone happy and makes them better workers, so I'm not complaining."

"I don't doubt it." Akira realized he was still holding the knife; he rubbed his thumb across the sheath's smooth surface, and it glided effortlessly across it. "How much did this cost, Sojiro?"

"Akira, don't you know it's impolite to ask someone how much their gift cost?"

"Yeah, but I doubt you give out something this nice to all your new boys, right? This thing looks like it belongs in a museum or some fancy auction, not in my pocket!"

"Akira, it's a nice knife, that's all," Sojiro replied matter-of-factly. "Keep your pants on about it, okay?" Sojiro then walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He opened one of the overhead cabinets and took out a bottle of vitamins, then swallowed two of them in one gulp. "I may be a criminal, but I'm still up there in years. Gotta watch my health just like any other man my age," he remarked. "Say, Akira, you ever experience the nightlife in your hometown?"

"Eh, no? Why?" Akira placed the knife on his bed and walked out into the kitchen.

"Kamurocho is famous for its after dark entertainment, and seeing as how you're not working any jobs for me yet, I figured you should take the night to see some of the sights."

"Wait, that's it? Just go out and hit up a club or something?"

"Essentially, though you will have one task to complete."

Akira raised an eyebrow and lowered his head slightly. "What would that be?"

"There's a popular dance club I have some investment in a few blocks from here. You and Ryuji are going to down there and check on the place's security. There's been more reports of gang activity in that neck of the woods, and you're going to see if they need any additional help."

"Me and Ryuji?" Akira asked. "I'm guessing he already agreed to this?"

"He'll be by to get you within the hour, he's currently wrapping up an errand. But that really is all: go down there, chat with the manager, and enjoy the rest of your night. Simple as that."

Akira sighed and looked anywhere around the room except at Sojiro. Once again, he found himself wrapped up in yakuza business without even a slight chance at saying no. He bit his lip, suppressing his desire to get angry. It's for your own good and your family's, man. Keep it together and have a good night, for fuck's sake. "Fine," he finally said. "I'll do it."

"I knew you would," Sojiro nodded. "If I find the time, I'll even swing by and check out the place myself, though I do have a few meetings to get to tonight. Anyway, don't bleed your wallet's dry and don't do anything to embarrass the organization. Apart from that, enjoy your evening, Akira." Sojiro began walking upstairs toward his room, but Akira knew he had to at least make one remark as not to seem completely complacent.

"I'm only doing this 'cuz I have to, you know," he called up to Sojiro.

"Whatever justification you need to ease your conscience doesn't really concern me, boy. All I care about is effective, efficient results." Before Akira could utter another word, Sojiro disappeared upstairs, accompanied by the sound of a closing door.

"Damn it," Akira said under his breath. "Another errand for a freaking yakuza." He stroked his chin concerningly, but his mind and eyes were pulled back to the knife on his bed. It lay there still; even in the dim light of the bedroom it managed to shine faintly. More gang activity, huh? Akira thought. Maybe that's why he got me a knife so quickly.

For the next forty-give minutes, Akira remained almost perfectly still on his bed, his knife laying next to him on the pillow. He contemplated the events of the last couple days like had so many times before, and became so deep in thought that he was almost unaware of the world around him. As he thought about the reality of his situation, his thoughts meandered toward his family. It was not like he had never stayed away from them for an extended period of time, but perhaps due to the stress of the situation he found himself in, he plain and simply missed them dearly. Especially his mother. For a moment, Akira considered calling her, if only to hear her tell him that everything was going to be alright, but that thought was dashed from his mind when he heard a loud electronic buzz from the foyer.

Akira got up and looked out of his doorway. On a panel next to the elevator was a dark gold intercom with a shining red lightbulb at the top of it. That same buzzing sound he had heard emanated from it in sync with the light turning on. He walked over to the intercom and pressed the button tepidly. "Hello?"

"Hey, man!" the voice of Ryuji said in a slightly garbled tone. "Just got back here for ya! I'm sure Boss already told you what was going down tonight, so make sure you're wearing something nice and head on down here, okay? I wanna get this meeting out of the way fast as possible so we can have more time with the ladies, you know what I'm sayin'?"

He's certainly excited. "Alright, man, I'll be down in a few."

"Sweet! Hurry it up so we can hurry on over!" With that, the blond punkish boy disconnected.

"Well," Akira said to himself, "this oughta be interesting. A night out with a yakuza, huh? What could possibly go wrong?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Bright Lights and Looming Plights

The bell dinged and the parlor of leBlanc was open to Akira, and he immediately caught sight of Ryuji. He wore a deep reddish-purple sport coat over a black button up shirt with grey swirling designs barely visible under the jacket, and a gold chain matching his hair adorning his neck. Stepping out onto the floor in a white sport coat and slacks and orange-gold shirt, Akira waved at his companion with a slight smirk, Ryuji responding in turn.

"Hey, man," Ryuji greeted him. "You clean up good. A gift from the Boss, I'm guessin'?"

"Yeah, it was in my closet," Akira looked down at himself. "Absolutely not what I normally wear, but apparently we gotta keep up appearances. At least it fits and feels good, almost like it's already been broken in."

"That's 'cuz we only get the real good shit, man! Now, c'mon! A suit like that is no good unless it's strutting up the street or at the club; basically anywhere there's ladies to catch a glimpse of ya," Ryuji smirked and winked, putting a hand on Akira's shoulder. "Let's hit it, Kurusu! Ya ready?"

Akira nodded, acting not nearly as emphatically as Ryuji, but he did muster a genuine grin. "Alright, alright! Let's get moving and get this meeting over with."

"That's the spirit! C'mon! It's showtime!"

The two young men walked out onto the street, immediately greeted with a raucous display of people coming and going between all the stores and restaurants on the strip. Lines of likely over a hundred people on either side of the street were trying to get the attention of cabs, waving wads of bills in the air. Funky disco pop poured out of one cafe from a garbled speaker system, while a tiny adult entertainment store blasted the pulse pounding beat of a hair metal track from a much more kept up system, the jarring contrast mixing in a way almost perfectly resembling the Kamurocho night life.

Akira and Ryuji walked side by side up the street, coming onto the famous entertainment strip of Tenkaichi Street. Fewer people gave them as much as way as they had in the morning, though Akira chalked it up to them already having had a few drinks. But even while they were not shown as much respect, the same glances, glares and stares Akira was almost becoming used to came in great amounts. He noticed Ryuji watching each person who gave them a look out of the corner of his eye, occasionally winking or smirking at the girls he caught the attention of. Akira found it amusing, and the confidence almost respectable.

"Hey, boooys!" a high-pitched woman's voice crooned from their left. Akira and Ryuji paused their walk and found the source of the voice. Two young ladies, both no more than twenty-four, wearing purple and blue bedazzled cocktail dresses, waved at them as they stood in front of a risqué looking stairwell bathed in deep violet light. "You big, handsome men looking for a good time?" the first girl put her hand on her cheek in a teasing display of faux innocence that her Cheshire grin betrayed wholly.

"We've got the most fun girls on the strip," crooned the second young lady, "even able to keep up with dangerous men like you," she winked.

"Sorry, ladies," Ryuji raised his hand with a flirtatious grin, "but we're on our way to an important meeting," he dragged out the last two words, obviously playing with them for what it was worth. "But we'll keep your lovely faces in mind if we find some free time, okay, honeys?" he winked.

"Aww," both girls frowned in unison, "you big boys really wanna work on a night like this? Don't you wanna see what we offer on our, well, menu?" the first girl smiled seductively.

"More than anything, hon," Ryuji nodded, "but the boss wants this done, and we're men of honor, so we gotta see it through."

"Oh, but men of honor always treat their ladies the best," the second girl winked again. "Well, if you get lonely tonight, you'll know where to find us!" Both ladies blew Akira and Ryuji a kiss, with the first girl blowing a second to Akira, who raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"Take care, ladies," Akira said with a wave. "See ya around!"

"You better," the first girl giggled.

Ryuji winked at both of them, and the two men strutted off once again.

"Man, they were laying it on thick," Akira muttered when they were out of earshot.

"It's how you know that business has been slipping, and their boss is probably pissed. In case I get too drunk, be a pal and remind me to talk to Boss about the place, see if we can give them some assistance."

"Gotcha."

"Cool."

Walking on the strip, Akira continued to have his senses assaulted on every front. Intoxicatingly good smelling food permeated the air just as much as did the distinct musk of cigarettes and alcohol. Music of all kinds blasted from all sides, but he still managed to catch exerts of people's conversations as he passed. Many a woman talked about the incompetence, and occasionally impotence, of their boyfriend or husband. Many a man lamented their performance at their jobs, or that of their superiors, and still some commented on the obviously suspicious duo that was passing them by, though they would then immediately divert their gaze elsewhere.

"We're here," Ryuji said after a minute more of walking. Akira looked up at the building to their right. Small in height though vibrantly colored, a brick and mortar building two stories tall with a neon sign over the door reading "Asylum" in stylized, heavy serif font. Outside the building was a long line of people waiting to get in, and a beast of a bouncer standing at the door with arms crossed. "Act cool." Ryuji started walking right past the line and to the door with no regard for anyone glaring at them or commenting angrily about how they were flagrantly cutting. Akira was confused, though had seen no reason to not be confident in Ryuji's more developed understanding of the yakuza trade, and its benefits.

After getting bevies of off-color remarks behind their backs, Akira and Ryuji came up to the brawny bouncer, clad all in black. He looked the two of them up and down, glaring down at them with the most unimpressed gaze Akira had ever seen. He let down his arms and Akira half expected him to toss them all the way across Tokyo with a single motion, but instead he took hold of the doorknob and opened the large wooden door to a hallway completely bathed in deep blue light. "Enjoy your evening, sirs," the bouncer said.

"Thank you very much," Ryuji bowed his head slightly as a chorus of awes and boos escalated behind them. He looked to Akira and motioned with his head to follow him. Akira nodded to him and the bouncer and they made their way inside.

A pulsing electronic beat accompanied the assault of blues and violets entering their eyes as they walked into the narrow hall. Ryuji seemed completely unphased, though Akira mist not have appeared so casual.

"First time in a club?" Ryuji asked, stopping halfway down the hall and looking at some risqué posters and fliers lining the walls.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You know it. You look like a virgin church boy in a porn theater, dude. I told you to act cool, remember?"

"I thought I was," Akira said more sheepishly than he intended.

"Well, then act like me. Cool, low stare, raise your eyebrows a bit looking completely unimpressed by everything you see, like you've seen it all a million times and you're bored of it."

Akira nodded. "I'll try."

"Well, don't just try but make sure you do it. We're here on business first and this is your time to make a good impression. Also, just don't fuck up the meeting by acting like you're a small town boy."

"Even though I am?" he replied sarcastically.

"That's my point. Now, c'mon," Ryuji waved his hand, "let's get you a taste of life outside of your mom's arms."

The beat and driving instrumentation became louder and louder as they approached another set of double doors. Ryuji took the doorknob at hand then smirked at Akira. "Be cool. It's gonna be a good night."

"I trust you, man."

"Heh," Ryuji chuckled, "that's great. Just don't be so trusting with our coworkers."

Before Akira could question that ominous statement, Ryuji pushed the doors open, revealing a spacious but crowded lounge bathed in many shades and colors. The music roared so loud Akira felt it was a miracle anyone could even have a conversation. His ears almost hurt upon being assaulted by the sensations.

"Ah, finally!" Ryuji stretched his arms in the air. Akira had to strain his ears to make out anything he was saying. "Back in my element! You're gonna be cruising for a fun night, my man! Now let's get this checkup bullshit out of the way so we can kick back!"

"Just lead the way!"

And that he did. Ryuji weaved through the crowds like a fish through water, while Akira felt about as graceful as a toad. Small-town girls like he was used to, these women were not. His sense of confidence was dissipating about as quickly as his raging heartbeat as he constantly bumped into ladies and gentlemen who all looked far more acquainted with this scene than he was. Just act cool, he thought. You'll have time to learn what to do here later, just act cool.

They then passed by the bar, lit in orange and blue in the back of the club next to the dancefloor where many congregated, though Akira's definition of "dance" did not seem to fit what many of these people were doing. He kept his hands in his pockets and his expression aloof as he noticed three women checking he and Ryuji out from the bar like a trio of lionesses on the prowl, though he suspected that they considered Ryuji the powerful prospect lion in himself, while Akira was more likely a hapless zebra. In fewer words, prey.

"Hey," Ryuji glanced back at him, trying to appear casual about it, "I said to act cool. You're botching it."

"By doing what?" Akira asked with a plainly frustrated tone.

Ryuji rolled his eyes as they came up to a door opposite the dance floor, near a more secluded lounging area. "I'll walk ya through it later, now just buck up."

Akira had half a mind to flip him off, the uncomfortable feeling he had from being in a completely alien environment making him extremely agitated, but he swallowed his anger and just nodded.

Ryuji opened the door slowly, revealing a small, brightly lit office. In contrast to the bombastic and overwhelming sensory overload of the main floor, nothing about the manager's office was remotely similar. A desk was placed in front of the back wall, filing cabinets about a man's height were next to it, and in the middle of the office was a coffee table with chairs surrounding it. Seated at the desk was a tall man in a business suit pouring over some papers with a cup of tea next to him. He was bald, likely about forty years of age, and wore a pair of academic looking glasses on his weathered, scruffy face.

"Nakano-san," Ryuji addressed him after closing the door behind himself and Akira. The man looked up from his papers and examined the two young men with a cold expression. "My employer and I appreciate you being able to speak with us this evening," Ryuji bowed, with Akira following suit immediately. "We understand you are a very busy man, and we do not wish to take up any great amount of your time."

Nakano-san spoke with a gruff and confident voice. "I will always take time to speak on matters regarding the Boss," he replied. "Please have a seat, young sirs. Is there anything I can order for you while we talk?"

"Thank you," Ryuji said as they sat in the leather seats, "but I won't be needing anything. I'll just grab something at the bar when we're done. Kurusu, do you want anything?"

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer."

"Of course," Nakano nodded, then took his cup of tea in hand and sat in one of the seats across from the young men. "Sakamoto," he addressed Ryuji, "I am surprised that the Boss was so trusting of someone of your age to represent him. He must trust your judgment greatly."

"The Boss knows I'm very familiar with the area and the club. He figured a simple meeting like this would be a good way to prove my knowledge of all this."

"And you're companion here," he looked to Akira. "Kurusu, was it?"

"Kurusu Akira, sir," he bowed again. "I'm a, uh, new hire. Ryuji has been my mentor of sorts."

"No doubt because you two seem to be about the same age, yes? Well, don't let me get too in the way of your training then, and let's get this matter resolved quickly."

"I agree completely," Ryuji nodded.

"Now, I am sure you were made aware of our… well, troubles as of late, Sakamoto."

"The Boss told me some of it, but he wanted you to explain your side of the story. Apparently, you've been having problems with gangs harassing your patrons?"

"And the employees too. Groups of hoodlums loiter around the property, both inside and out, accosting out staff and harassing our guests, especially the female clientele. We've received reports of everything from women being shouted at to men trying to solicit them to follow them to God knows where. And just last night we… Well..."

"What is it?" Ryuji pressed.

"We… received a call from a woman living in Shibuya. She said she and a friend were visiting Kamurocho and made their way to our club two nights ago. However, her friend never showed up back at their hotel that night. She said she contacted the police, other clubs and restaurants around town, but none knew anything about her whereabouts, including us."

"Holy shit," Ryuji muttered.

"This coincided with the rise of harassment recently, and it has led to suspect the worse."

"Kidnapping," Akira finished for him.

"Exactly." Nakano shook his head in a display of shame. "We cannot confirm anything yet, but we are not willing to take any more risks. We… I would be most grateful for the Sakura family to provide us with more security resources to keep our patrons and staff safe."

Ryuji nodded again, seemingly biting his lip at the same time. "Your club is an important asset to the family, and I have no doubt the Boss will be able to provide support, sir. I'll get in contact with him immediately. Though, the matter of price will still have to be talked about."

"I'm aware, yes," Nakano said. "The gang activity has slightly deflated our profits, but I am willing to invest more to help gain back that money in the long run. The Boss has always been kind to us, I am willing to repay him."

"Then I can all but guarantee you'll have what you need," Ryuji said. "I'll call him right after our meeting, and it must be your lucky night after all, sir. The Boss said he'd do his best to see you tonight in person, though sent us in case something came up. He's a busy man, after all."

"Oh, I completely understand. As great as it would be to speak with him in person, I cannot ask that he put aside everything he is doing just for us."

God, you'd think Sojiro was some kind of religious figure to him. How many business relationships does he have in the area? And what did he do to get someone to be so respectful, almost reverent to him?

"Still, I'll get in contact with him and we'll sort this all out," Ryuji bowed his head. "Thank you for your time, sir."

"You as well, Sakamoto. And it was a pleasure meeting you, Kurusu," he turned to Akira.

"The pleasure was mine," he replied, bowing his head.

"Now, please enjoy the rest of your evening, young sirs. Any accommodations you may desire, we would be happy to provide."

"Thank you, we'll keep that in mind." Akira and Ryuji got to their feet and bowed again. "Be expecting a call from the Boss by tomorrow. We'll be investigating these matters immediately."

"Thank you very much. We are most appreciative."

The two young men then took their leave, making their way back out to the club floor. Akira's head was spinning at the implication of what he'd just heard. Kidnappings? They've got me dealing… with fucking kidnappings?! He shook his head, banishing the thought from it.

With the door closed behind them, Akira turned to Ryuji, speaking up as to get over the volume of the music. "Well, that kind of puts a damper on the whole 'cutting loose' thing, yeah?"

"Only if ya let it!" Ryuji pointed to a curving stairwell across from them. "Head on up there and grab a drink, maybe a lady or two while you're at it. I gotta make a call. I'll meet up with ya in a minute."

"I don't have much money on me."

Nakano-san is covering, man! Just remember, you're a newbie. Don't make it look like you're dining for free, okay? It looks very different when someone like you does it compared to someone with more seniority."

"I can imagine," Akira nodded. He looked up to the stairwell, seeing a glimpse of another bar surrounded by more lounging area, all of which seemed much more upscale and pricy then anything on the main floor. "Alright, I'll check it out. But I don't plan on getting drunk."

"That's what you think," Ryuji winked and nudged him in the shoulder. "Back in a flash! Don't start too much fun without me!" Without waiting for a response from Akira, Ryuji turned on his heels and beelined for the exit.

Akira smacked his lips, still coming to grips with the absurdity of his situation. So, protection deals, suspected kidnapping, working with yakuza, and now I'm told to just go get a drink? He looked up the staircase again before realizing he must look like a child lost in a supermarket. At least it might get my mind off things, he thought.

Trying to appear more aloof as previously instructed, Akira took his first steps onto the stairwell, looking down on the raucous displays beneath him. The "dances" were becoming more physical, more intimate, as the night went on and the drinks continued to flow. He saw beautiful girls grinding on less than beautiful men, college students throwing their hands in the air with complete disregard for the possibility of spilling their drinks, and old business men seated with beautiful young women, sharing drinks and laughter while paying little mind to the arm candy present with them. Akira felt alien, isolated, lost. A small-town boy in the big city was often sung about in pop music, but the reality of it felt far less romantic then had been described by the singers.

Just get a damn drink, he chastised himself.

The bar he approached was far more elaborate then the one on the main floor. The trim of the bar and the background was all in gold and bathed in deep blue light. A diorama of traditional Japanese art depicting people in kimonos basking in the vibrant moonlight as a white serpentine dragon looked down on them from the heavens was the backdrop to the arrangement of drinks and ingredients lined up behind the bartender. Unlike the bar below, there were a few seats left available, another indication of the increase in price. Akira quietly took a seat at the end for himself and looked at the menu hanging above him.

Many of the drinks and ingredients the small-town young man had never heard of, and many of what he did recognize sounded completely unappetizing. Akira also noticed that the people seated at the bar with him were not nearly as raucous as those on the main floor. Most seemed older, with maybe two of the five others seated at the bar being of college age. All of them seemed to be salarymen having understated discussion about their own lives, which Akira was able to gather since the music was not nearly as loud on the second floor. Even when he noticed the men sitting a couple empty seats down from him, they either did not notice him, or just did not care enough to acknowledge him.

"What'll it be chief?" a gruff voice said from Akira's front. Embarrassingly, Akira's head shot forward in the direction of the speaker as if he were a child who had just been found in possession of an adult magazine. Looking at him with eyebrow raised was a pudgy man a whole head taller than Akira, with beady eyes centered in his bald head. A double chin accentuated his face and led down to a set of broad shoulders constrained by a typical bartender's garb: a white button-up and velvet vest with a bowtie. All in all, not the image Akira would have expected to be tending a bar as fancy as the one he was currently sat at. "You gonna order something?" he asked again. "Or did your feet just need a break from dancing?"

"Oh, um…" Akira's tongue felt stiff and dry, and he vilely cursed himself for being so awkward. "I'm just looking over the menu," he finally got out.

"Sure thing," the man responded plainly. "Take your time." He then turned to clean a glass and ask one of the salarymen if he wanted an order of snacks. After the immediate sense of surprise at the bartender's reaction, Akira proceeded to mentally kick himself further for overreacting so much.

While he was busy scolding himself for acting like a child, two girls took the seats next to him, drawing him back to the real world. The girl next to him wore a white hoodie obscuring her face, while the Japanese girl on her left wore a simple dress and jeans. They both seemed engaged in enjoyable conversation, as the girl next to the one on Akira's left was continuously smiling at her friend. As Akira looked them up and down, his eyes fell on the chest of the girl next to him, taking in the sight of a rather… impressive bust evident even under her loose-fitting hoodie. Well, loose-fitting everywhere except in her upper middle section. Realizing the questionable nature of his actions, he forced his eyes away and back at the incomprehensible menu, until the girl removed her hood.

Long, flowing golden hair fell down past her shoulder half down her back, done up in twin ponytails. Her face was fair, her skin pale, unlike most Japanese women. She looked far more American than Japanese, despite speaking the language perfectly. Her lips were full and covered in ruby lipstick, and her eyes were a piercing sapphire color, like waves on the lake near his hometown in Summer. She turned her head away from him, looking to her friend and giggling about something. Some part of him wanted to speak to her, in spite of the conversation she was having with her friend. He felt drawn to her in some strange way, until something more abrupt drew him away.

"Piece of shit!" came a familiar voice roaring over the music. Akira looked back behind him in the direction of the voice, noticing the girls next to him did the same. He recognized that it was Ryuji's voice, and it continued to shout vile and constant curses, prompting gasps and concerned looks from those around him. Akira made his way to the railing overlooking the main floor and saw Ryuji in some sort of furious standoff with a tall, muscular man with a garish afro… and quite possibly the largest chin he had ever seen.

"The hell is he doing now?" Akira muttered before rushing down the steps.

"Just look at yourself," the tall man taunted Ryuji with an extremely condescending tone and body language. "You had so much potential, and you're blowing it on low-lifes. You ought to be in jail 'till you grow your first chest hair, Sakamoto!"

"And you should be in jail until you rot!" Ryuji got in his face with a murderous glare, teeth gritting hard enough to break them. "You have no right to judge me for my life!"

"Everyone does, with the dumbass choices you've made!"

People started getting more annoyed and concerned with the two men making a scene, and Akira stepped in between them quickly before anyone else could get involved.

"Whoa, whoa! Hey, time out!" Akira firmly pushed Ryuji back a few inches, hand outstretched and gaze darting between his companion and the large man. "Ryuji, the hell is going on here?"

"Stay out of this, Akira!" Ryuji tried to push him aside. "You don't know anything about this, so keep your nose out of our business."

"And who is this?" the man asked with a smirk and arms crossed. "One of your low-life worthless scumbag friends."

"Go fuck yourself, Kamoshida!" Ryuji pointed at him, fighting harder against Akira. "Why haven't you just hung yourself already?!"

"Oh ho, mean words, kid! I could report you to the police for that!"

"Don't make me do it for you!"

"Shut the hell up, Ryuji!" Akira screamed at him. "Let's just get out of here!"

"You don't even know what happened, Akira! Just stay out of this and let me take care of him!"

"You make one wrong move," Kamoshida pointed at him, "and I'll have the police take you down like they should have a long time ago!"

"Come over and say that to my face, shitstain!" Ryuji pushed Akira out of the way, breathing heavily and looking ready to kill whoever this Kamoshida was, but all three men were stopped in their tracks when a strong, commanding female voice raised over the crowd beginning to cheer Ryuji on to fight the man.

"Hey!" said the woman. All three men looked to see the same blond girl Akira had been seated next to, standing in a wide, authoritative stance and glowering at Kamoshida. Behind her was the other Japanese girl she had been with, looking a lot less confident than her companion. The blond girl pointed to Kamoshida, somehow making her icy glare even more imposing. "Get out, before I call the police," she commanded him.

Ryuji, who was inches away from knocking out some of Kamoshida's teeth, stood up straight, a clear expression of shock sneaking to his face. Kamoshida looked between the girl and Ryuji, then shrugged dismissively.

Looking to Ryuji, he said in a low tone, "Stay out of my way, or I'll fuck you up way harder than track ever did."

"Same for you, you bastard," Ryuji muttered. Kamoshida turned around to face a group of three skeezy looking men, then pointed to the door with his thumb. The four men formed some kind of possy, then took their leave. When they finally exited the establishment, Ryuji spoke up strongly. "Back to your drinks, people! Show's over."

Akira was completely dumbfounded at what he had just saw, and the people around him seemed about the same. Awkwardly, hesitantly, they all went back to what they were doing, but Ryuji did not. He immediately walked over to the two girls and started talking to them in hushed tones. Akira, just as awkwardly as everyone else, walked up behind Ryuji and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?"

Ryuji turned around from the girls and looked at Akira. His facial expression suggested he was still fuming, but at least he seemed to have some bit of control of himself. "Yeah, he didn't hurt me or anything," he replied quickly. "But you shouldn't have gotten involved, Akira!"

"I didn't know what was going on and you looked like you were about to kill that guy, man! I couldn't just stand by and watch you—"

Ryuji stepped forward, getting in Akira's face just as he had with Kamoshida. "I had it in control!"

"Ryuji!" the blond girl interjected. "It's okay! He was trying to help."

"He's got no idea about him!" he wheeled back around to face her.

"Wait," Akira tried to get in, "you guys know each other?"

Ryuji took a deep breath, his tense shoulders falling back to a more normal posture. "Yeah, we do. We, well, went to high school together. In Shibuya."

The blond girl held out her hand to Akira. A very… un-Japanese thing to do. "I'm Ann," she said. "He's right, we knew Ryuji back in school."

Tentatively, Akira took her hand and shook it. "I'm Akira," he said slowly, awkwardly.

The girl behind Ann then bowed her head, her mannerisms more sheepish and reserved than her feisty, confident friend. "My name is Shiho," she introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you both," Akira nodded and bowed. "I guess you two know that Kamoshida guy too?"

"Yeah, we do," Ann answered. "He was a PE teacher at our high school. But… we really shouldn't talk about that here."

"You're right," Ryuji said. "Let's find somewhere quiet to talk. But we should still stay in the club for a while. Don't know if Kamoshida's gonna still be poking around outside."

"You're right," Ann said. "Let's find a booth upstairs, it's quieter up there." Ann then turned to Akira, looking inquisitively at him. "You were the awkward guy sitting next to me at the bar," she remarked.

"Awkward?" Akira raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, awkward," a ghost of a smile crept to Ann's face. "But, let's not talk about that now. Lots more important stuff to discuss than that."

"Akira doesn't have anything to do with this," Ryuji cut in sternly. "We don't need to include him."

"Excuse me?" he bumped Ryuji's shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Ryuji shoved him back.

"Ryuji!" Ann shouted at him.

"I just wanted to help you, Ryuji!" Akira glared at him. "I'm involved in this now, like it or not! Now calm yourself down."

Ryuji looked ready to curse at Akira again, or lay him out. But he froze, breathed and hanged his head low. "Fine," he said under his breath, then turned to the girls. "Let's find a booth." He turned his head back and glared at Akira, who bit his lip to stifle the unfriendly response that nearly burst from his mouth.

In awkward silence, the group made their way to the stairwell. Akira noticed the club starting to return to normal, and the music being played slightly louder, likely to get everyone's minds off of the intense scene that had just transpired. Akira felt an awkward tightness in his gut and a heat in his face. He felt embarrassed, pissed off at Ryuji, but also concern for him and the girls who obviously had a bone to pick with this Kamoshida man as well. In spite of the sick feeling that plagued his stomach and head, he followed on, interested, almost fascinated to find out just what had happened to these people.

"Fuck me," he whispered in the deep blue strobe lights.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Tension

The four young adults took their seats in the quietest, most secluded corner of the second floor lounge area they could find. Quickly sitting down around a circular table, Akira, Ryuji, Ann and Shiho all instinctively looked around, scanning the area for anyone who may be watching them, just in case any of Kamoshida's goons had stuck around.

Akira rubbed his chin pensively, everyone else seeming to preoccupied to start any kind of conversation. While his stomach still felt knotted from the heated exchange earlier, the awkward quiet of the group permeated only by the pulsing music was enough to give him a migraine.

Akira cleared his throat loudly, as to rise above the volume of the music. "So, Kamoshida was your PE teacher?" he asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "It may sound weird, but I feel like I know the name."

"It really isn't," Ann replied. "Back in '82, Kamoshida won a gold medal in the Olympics for volleyball. That's probably where you know the name from."

"Yeah, makes sense," Akira nodded. "I remember hearing my parents talk about it back then, but I was just a kid and didn't really care about it too much."

Shiho, sitting beside Ann, lowered her head, shaking it back and forth. "You may have been onto something," she mumbled.

"Huh?" Akira asked. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Shiho's gaze shot up immediately, as if she had not even realized what she had said until Akira inquired about it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, quickly looking to the floor and playing with her long dark hair. "It's, uh, nothing," she muttered. "I swear, it's nothing," she sounded almost frantic.

Ann put a hand on her friend's trembling shoulder. "Shiho, it's alright." Ann rubbed Shiho's arm reassuringly. Akira could have sworn the girl was having a panic attack.

He leaned over to Ryuji, who's scowl had not let up since Kamoshida left. "Did I say something wrong?" he whispered to the blond young man.

"No, you didn't. Not really, at least. Long story."

"That's cryptic." Akira leaned back, putting on the most consoling expression he could. "Shiho, are you alright?" he asked. "Did I say something to offend you?

Shiho, looking in a daze, shook her head no as she continued to look down to her side and mess with her hair.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Ann said, turning to Akira as she continued to rub Shiho's shoulders. "We all have a… complicated past with Kamoshida."

"I gathered that part," Akira replied. "But God, what did that guy do to you three?"

Ryuji and Ann looked to each other, then two tears fell down Shiho's face, her whole body tensing up and shaking.

"Should we tell him?" Ryuji asked.

"It's not like we can hide it," Ann replied, shaking her head. She then pulled Shiho close to her, resting her head on her shoulder as Shiho let out a faint whimper. "You tell him your part, Ryuji. Shiho and I are going to use the restroom."

"I understand," Ryuji nodded. "Just be careful, okay? Come right back here when you're done."

"We know, Ryuji," Ann said. "Come on, Shiho," she nudged her friend. "Let's get tidied up." Shiho weakly nodded and the two girls got up slowly, then walked away, leaving the young men alone.

Akira shook his head, at a loss for what he should think or say, but he absolutely had to say something. "Jesus," he muttered and turned to Ryuji. "I don't know what that guy did to you, but I'm getting a feeling about what he did to them."

Ryuji stared off into space, noticeable biting his lip before responding. "You're probably right about some of it," he said. "But that's not my story to tell, man. If they're up to it, I'll let the girls explain when they get back."

"I get you." Akira's gaze now fell to the floor, all sound and space around them fading away as he contemplated his current situation. "So," he said slowly, "the hell did he do to you?"

Ryuji smacked his lips and sighed. "We told ya he was the PE teacher at Shujin, yeah?" he began. "Well, back in high school I was on the track team, had been really since elementary. During my junior year I was slated to become captain of the school's track team, but that didn't exactly work out."

"I had a feeling that was the case."

"Yeah, but it's how it happened that fucked me up," Ryuji turned to Akira with a biting tone. "Kamoshida was technically only directly in charge of the volleyball teams, both male and female somehow, but he oversaw the activities for the other sports programs too, on top of being over PE. Towards the end of my third year, my boys and I were training like hell to get ready for the regional meet coming up and I was gonna be our leader, but then I…" Ryuji trailed off. He shook his head as if dealing with a migraine and groaned, almost growling. "I saw Kamoshida…" he began again, "beating on one of the guys in volleyball."

"Wait, what!?" Akira exclaimed. "Beating on one of them? Like, assaulting him?"

"You got it, man," Ryuji nodded, his scowl returning in full force. "He was even a second year, one of the younger guys on the team. His name was Mishima, and apparently he hadn't lived up to Mr. Olympian's standards at a recent game." Ryuji looked back out into space, and Akira could practically see his memories playing on his eyes like a movie theater. "I was running a few cool down laps on the track after practice when I saw Mishima putting away some equipment in the shed right by it. I thought I saw bruises on the kid's legs but figured he must have just fell at the game or something, happens all the time. Then a minute later, Kamoshida comes walking out to the shed, and I swear the kid nearly passed out in fear right there.

"Kamoshida came out and punched all of Mishima's equipment out of his hands and the kid froze up. I stopped running and was about to rush over to see what was going on when Kamoshida just fucking decks the kid! Punches him right in the eye! Keep in mind Kamoshida was like twice Mishima's size, and that punch looked like he tried to knock him out."

"What the hell?"

"Oh, I'm not done," Ryuji shook his head, and what could only be described as an "angry smile" snaked its way onto his face. "Mishima just lays on the pavement, starts begging Kamoshida for forgiveness. I couldn't hear what the asshole said but I did hear Mishima's screams when Kamoshida, well, stomped his foot right on the kid's leg." Ryuji made fist so tight his fingers turned white, and his jaw clenched in turn. "I ran up to Kamoshida, throwing out every curse word I knew, and right as I approached him he picks Mishima off the ground and holds him up in front of me. Then the bastard smiled."

Akira's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"He tells me to leave, and never talk about this to anyone, or Mishima would get even worse than what he got and I'd be expelled. It fucking hurts me to think about, and way more to say it, but I considered it, just for a second."

"You were young," Akira said. "Going up against an Olympian would be scary."

"But I decided to do just that anyway."

"You did!?"

"I wasn't gonna let that asshole smile down at me while he brutalized an innocent kid!" Ryuji, fuming with anger, stood to his feet and glowered down at Akira with wild eyes. "I charged right past Mishima and threw a punch right into that shit eating grin, and watched him land right on his ass." Ryuji bit his lip again and stood up straight, trying to calm himself down. "I wanted to mug the guy for all he was worth, but I had to get Mishima to safety. Picked him up, carried him piggy-back and ran like hell for the infirmary." Ryuji's gaze became downcast as he sat back down.

"I take you weren't rewarded for you heroism," Akira remarked in a low tone.

"That's rich," Ryuji chuckled; the saddest chuckle Akira had ever heard. "I dropped him off at the nurse's office, but she wasn't in since it was already late. I knew a thing or two about first aid from getting injured so many times myself playing sports, so I bandaged him up best I could. I tried to get him to talk about what had happened, and he said that Kamoshida had always been abusive of the volleyball teams, and it was taking a toll on their performance. They'd been losing more and more games and Kamoshida was getting more and more abusive for it. Apparently, Mishima had been so exhausted from the abuse that he threw their previous game in the last minute, and Kamoshida was punishing him."

"By assaulting a kid?"

"Swear on my mom, but that's not the end of it."

"What fucking else could have happened after all that!?"

"You'd be surprised." Ryuji let out a long and tired breath. "While I was trying to convince Mishima to come with me to testify against Kamoshida, really putting on the downtrodden heroes act, our fatass principal Kobayakawa walked in on us, and Kamoshida was with him, holding a bloody rag in his mouth." He paused again, and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. "The principal that Kamoshida told him he caught me beating Mishima for losing the last game, and when Kamoshida tried to break up the fight, I punched him."

"And this was while you were tending Mishima's wounds? That doesn't make sense."

"Kamoshida said I was obviously trying to cover my tracks, and Mishima must have been too afraid of me to go against it."

"So exactly what Kamoshida was doing to him?"

"Yup. And when I tried to get Mishima to say it was all bullshit, he didn't say a damn word."

"Oh god."

Ryuji shook his head slowly. "He wasn't afraid of me, he was afraid of Kamoshida and what he would do to him if Mishima said anything against him. I was expelled that day, and they didn't press charges."

"That's… good, right?" Akira asked.

"No, it's not," Ryuji muttered slowly.

"Oh." Akira was not at a loss for words.

"After my mom berated my more than she ever had in my life for getting expelled, I went off to talk to the guys on the track team, tell them what really happened. I wasn't supposed to be on school grounds anymore, but I didn't give a fuck at the time. My own mother didn't believe me." That sentence came out with a particularly vile venom in his tone. "I had to try though, but it wasn't the guys waiting for me at our usual spot. It was Kamoshida."

Akira still had no words left.

"He said he didn't press charges because his testimony likely wouldn't hold up in court, and also so he could deal with me personally." Ryuji paused. He turned his head away from Akira, who noticed the strong, brash, brazen young yakuza… tremble. Ryuji said in almost a whisper, "He tried to brake my legs."

Akira thought for a moment his heart had stopped, as had the whole world. Everything seemed to fade into a foggy nothingness as his friend continued on after a moment.

With a shaky voice and body, which Akira could not discern indicated sorrow or rage or some combination of the two, Ryuji said, "Kamoshida attacked me, said I didn't deserve my natural talent for running. He said he was the king of the school, that he could do whatever he wanted, and I had no right to stand up to him… that I needed to be taught a lesson." He paused for a moment, his body tensing up again. "He said I was worthless, a burden, an idiot. He said the only thing I had was running, and I didn't deserve it, so he would take it from me." He paused again, but now looked Akira in the eyes. Akira saw his eyes were red, and all the pain of Ryuji's memories was as plain as day on his face. "He tried to stomp on my legs just like he did to Mishima, insulting me the whole time. Thank God he underestimated me, 'cuz I managed to fight him off. I ran like hell back home after I got away, and then… my mom…"

"Hey, we're back," came the voice of Ann from their right, cutting of Ryuji. Taking their seats again, Ann and Shiho returned to the table, both looking exhausted but stable. Shiho obviously had a pretty intense crying session, Akira thought as he looked at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were pale save for the red splotches dotting them. She still looked slightly dazed but at least appeared mostly calm. Better watch what I say really closely. Don't wanna make this any worse for her. "Sorry for the wait, guys," Ann said.

"Think nothing of it," Akira replied. "Ryuji was giving me the, uh, rundown on his deal with Kamoshida."

"Oh wow," Ann looked surprised.

"So," Shiho added meekly, "you told him about the fight, Ryuji?"

"Yeah, I spilled the beans on just about everything. Don't really know if it was a good idea, but like you said, Ann, he's knee deep in this shit too now. Guess he has a right to know. But don't worry, I didn't tell him anything about your guys' stories."

"And don't think you have to," Akira interjected with a serious tone. "If you don't feel comfortable telling a stranger, then don't even worry about it."

Ann and Shiho looked at each other, as if having some kind of telepathic debate over whether or not Akira was privy to such information. While he did truly want to respect the young ladies' privacy, Akira did harbor some sense of curiosity over what kind of sick things this madman did to these girls. He had his ideas, and those ideas were why he was resolute on not pushing them to reveal anything.

After a moment, both girls met gazes with Akira, appearing, dare he think, confident. "No," Shiho uttered, "more people need to know what kind of man Kamoshida is. And, well, one more person who knows the truth is still more than there was yesterday."

"Damn straight, girl!" Ann pumped her fist with a smirk. "He's not around to keep us quiet anymore!"

Akira leaned over to Ryuji once again. "Not the reaction I expected," he whispered.

"Ditto."

Ann made that same confident smirk at Shiho, who grinned back at her friend. Not quite as fiery a display as the blond, but this was far better than a panic attack.

"If you're sure," Akira said.

"We are," Ann nodded. "But, maybe do it somewhere quieter? We also wanna know how you're doing, Ryuji."

"She's got a point, man," Ryuji nudged Akira. "A club ain't the best place for a heart to heart, ya know?"

"I agree. So, where do you wanna go? You girls got a place to stay?"

"Well, that's forward," Shiho said, letting out the slightest giggle.

"I mean," Akira added awkwardly, "I just don't know if it would be safe for you girls to be out on the streets too much tonight. You know, if those creeps try to follow you or something."

"Awe, such a gentleman," Ann cooed playfully, "looking out for two girls he only just met." Her expression changed from playful, almost mocking, to a genuine smile. "I appreciate it," she said.

"So do I," Shiho added with the same grin. "Thank you for your concern, Kurusu-san."

"Hey!" Ryuji interjected. "I was gonna suggest the same thing!"

The girls both genuinely giggled at Ryuji's outburst, exhibiting a side to them completely unlike their dour selves Akira had been introduced to. It felt… refreshing.

"Alright, alright!" Ann said amongst more laughing. "Thank you both for being such gentlemen," she said emphatically.

Ryuji smirked, folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. "That's much better," he nodded, feeling very validated. "But Akira's got a point, we probably should blow this place in case Kamoshida or his goons get any funny ideas."

"We've got a hotel room," Shiho said. "We can go back there and relax for a bit."

"Sounds good," Ryuji nodded. "Guessing it's not far?"

"Just a few blocks," replied Ann. "C'mon, guys, let's get moving."

"Ah, great!" Ryuji got up and stretched. "My back was killing me. Hey, Akira! We forgot to get dinner!"

"We did too!" Ann exclaimed. "Oh God," she droned, "I'm so hungry. Man, being emotional sure works up an appetite. Hey, you guys think we should swing by one of the shops on our way back to the hotel?"

"Uh," added Shiho, "we probably should focus on just getting back to the hotel, Ann. We shouldn't be out longer than we need to be."

Akira nodded as he stood to his feet. "She's got a point. Why don't we just order some room service when we arrive, huh?"

Ann made a, to Akira's perception, strikingly adorable fake pout at his point. "Fiiine. But we better get plenty of the good stuff immediately."

Ryuji shrugged with a self-satisfied grin. "We gotcha covered, ladies. We'll eat like kings tonight."

"Are we allowed to do that?" Akira asked.

"Do you really care, man?"

"Touche."

Ann put her arm around Shiho's shoulders again, bringing her in for a sideways embrace. "C'mon, guys! Let's move before I get hangry!"

"I've seen that," Ryuji muttered to Akira. "Not good."

"Noted. Let's roll."

Two young men and two young women walked out of the Asylum club and back out onto the bustling streets of Kamurocho. The nightlife scene was in full swing, and the line to get into Asylum had only gotten longer, and the people in line more perturbed looking. Ann and Shiho indicated in the direction of their hotel, and they all went on their way.

Wading through the crowds of people made conversation difficult. Even small talk was sparse among the foursome, consisting primarily of Shiho and Ann commenting to each other on various shops and stands they passed by. Their primary subject was wondering if a new blouse or selection of handbags was on sale. Akira and Ryuji would glance at the subjects of their curiosity, then continue on uninterested.

However, only about ten minutes of walking passed until their eyes started scanning the area for something more than a good bargain on ointment or shoes. "Hey," Ryuji muttered to Akira, "you seen the guys a few yards behind us?"

"Yeah," Akira nodded, making sure the girls did not hear him. "They've been tailing us for a few minutes. I was hoping you'd caught onto them."

"I haven't got a good look at them, but they're following just far back enough that it's making me suspicious. Just in case, we should try to lose 'em." Akira quickly looked over his shoulder. It took him a second to spy the suspicious men. One wore a tie-dye shirt and a hat over his angular face, appearing like a tourist, and the other wore an unassuming business suit and sunglasses. "Don't assume they're alone either," Ryuji said. "Probably got backup tailing us a street down."

"What do we do? Don't wanna scare the girls, and we don't want them to think we saw them."

"I got an idea," Ryuji smirked. "Hey, girls!" he called at them to get their attention. Shiho and Ann turned around, looking confused. Ryuji reached into his chest pocket slowly. "Just follow our lead for a sec, okay?"

"What does that mean?" asked Ann.

Ryuji, to the others complete baffling, pulled out a large wad the size of Akira's fist full of thousand yen bills. Then, converting their bafflement to absolute shock, Ryuji tossed the wad of money into the air. "It's party time!" he shouted with a gleeful smile as all the bystanders around them gasped and cheered before trying to catch the money out of the air or pick it up from the ground in a frenzy. Akira, Ann, and Shiho were so shocked by Ryuji's act that they were stunned still. He nudged his friends on the shoulders and shouted "Come on, let's move!"

"Wait, what's happening?" Shiho asked frantically.

Akira caught on to what he was doing and patted the girls on their backs to prod them forward. "Move now, explain later. Come on!"

The four young people darted around the street corner as the hectic mosh pit around the bills erupted into arguments and fighting, with the girls growing more confused by the second. When they rounded the corner, they found themselves in front of a garish looking open front store stocked to the brim with boxes of food and knickknacks. Don Quixote read the sign above the storefront. "In here," Ryuji said, and the other three followed. Darting into the downright abrasively tacky looking shop, the four young people immediately made their way as far back into the crowded aisles as they could, coming right up to the employee break room.

While Ryuji and Akira scoped out the area, keenly watching to see if they had been followed, Ann tapped strongly on Ryuji's shoulder, who turned around to see a thoroughly irritated glare staring back at him. "What in god's name are you two doing!?" she shouted into his face.

"Hey, keep quiet, Ann!" Ryuji retorted. "Just calm down."

"I will once you tell us why you threw a ton of money on the ground and sprinted in here!"

"We were being followed," Akira immediately replied for Ryuji, trying to calm Ann down. "Ryuji caused a distraction and we made an escape."

"F-followed?" Shiho stuttered.

Ann asked, "How do you know?"

Ryuji crossed his arms, his expression becoming more serious. "A couple suspicious goons were tailing us for the last couple blocks. We had a feeling they were either with Kamoshida or some gang, and we made a break for it."

"We didn't tell you," Akira added, "because we didn't want either of you to panic, or to make it look like we were onto those guys. Sorry about scaring you two, really."

"Yeah, sorry, girls, but we had to make a snap decision."

Both girls looked extremely worried, with Shiho's expression turning more dour. "Ann," she looked to her friend, "I think they found us."

"Found you?" Akira asked. "Who?"

Ann glared, but not at anyone in particular. "We were gonna wait until we got back to the hotel to tell you this, but I guess the cat's out of the bag. Ryuji, back in Shibuya, we've been having reports of suspicious men following women around our age, and even younger in some cases. Both Shiho and I had our own run-ins with these jackasses."

"In fact," Shiho spoke up, "we were here in Kamurocho to try and get away from Shibuya while the cops investigated what was going on. We were… hiding. But," Shiho's voice became weaker, quivering, "I guess it didn't work."

Ann immediately put her hands on her friend's shoulders, looking her dead in the eyes. "We'll be fine, Shiho, I promise. Nothing is going to happen to us."

Ryuji nodded, "Damn right, it won't. We're getting you two out of here safely."

"How far to the hotel, girls?" asked Akira.

"Only a couple more blocks," Ann replied, "but should we really go there now? If someone finds out where we're staying… Oh, god, I'm not even gonna think about it."

"She's got a point, Ryuji," Akira said. "It'd be a hell of a risk."

"Yeah, but then where would we—" Ryuji looked back at the cash register and his eyes widened. "Shit, we got company."

"Wha—" Akira said, looking in the same direction, only to cut off in the same way.

"They're here?" Shiho asked in a frantic whisper.

About four aisles away, at the cash register, the same two men that Akira and Ryuji identified were making some kind of obviously unpleasant conversation with the clerk, a plain looking man of about twenty-five.

Akira stomach tightened as he watched the men. "We gotta get the hell out of here."

"Oh god," Shiho held her hands to her chest.

"Don't worry, guys," Ryuji said. "We're getting you out of here just fine."

"Walk with us," Akira interjected.

"What?" asked Ann. "Just walk right out the door."

"Yeah, and we're gonna make it quick. Come here." He moved over to Ann and put his arm around her, staying on the side between her and the cash register.

"What are you…" her voice trailed off, considering the reality of the situation was more important than any awkward forwardness she was experiencing. At least his arms felt strong…

"Ryuji, you too."

"Gotcha." He carefully followed suit with Shiho, who did not utter a word. "Let's move."

Akira nodded. Staying to the far end of the store and watching the two men out of his periphery without looking directly at them, Akira walked Ann to the front of the store, hearing a snippet of the conversation the goons were having with the clerk.

"…I do not know anything!" the clerk insisted. "If you are not here to buy anything, I must ask you to leave or I will call the authorities."

"It was just a question, Christ," said the man in the sunglasses.

"Please, do not loiter any further here—" the clerk cut off suddenly, making eye contact with Akira. The young man glared at the clerk, and also nodded as if silently saying, "We're the ones they want, just keep 'em busy."

"Hey, buddy," the one with the hat snapped his fingers at the clerk, "you hear anything I just said?"

The clerk looked back and forth between the man and Akira, then bowed to the goon. "Sorry for the inconvenience, sir," he said with the utmost fake politeness. "Would you perhaps be interested in one of our specials?" he smiled at them. Hearing this, Akira smirked as well. Not bad, man, he thought. When I get the chance, I'll repay you.

At long last, the four young adults found themselves back on the sidewalk, and walked as fast as they could without full on running back around the street corner and into the crowds. Akira sighed with relief, then noticed he still had his arm around Ann. Looking to her, he saw that she did not seem bothered by it. Instead, she was leaning into him, a truly scared expression on her face, though one she seemed like she was trying to repress. He looked back to check on Shiho. Sure enough, she was still in the arm of Ryuji, and looked much the same as Ann, though having a harder time hiding how rattled she was.

"Where to now?" Ann asked quietly.

"Huh?"

"Just… get us out of here," she whispered, looking up to meet Akira's gaze. "Anywhere safe, just get her and I out here. Please."

Akira felt awkward, unprepared, and completely out of his element with her looking up at him with those terrified eyes. He collected what thoughts he could, and let out a deep breath. "You got it. Ryuji," he turned back to him, "leBlanc. Now."

"I was just thinking the same thing," he nodded.

"W-what's that?" Shiho asked.

"A safe place, promise," Ryuji replied. "Oh, probably should, uh," he stammered, raising his arm off Shiho's shoulder, who grabbed it immediately and leaned against him again.

"Sorry," she whispered, "just a little longer. Please…"

Ryuji too felt awkward now, but got a handle of himself quicker than Akira. "Sure thing," he nodded. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Ann then moved away from Akira's arm, though not in any kind of hostile way. Looking dead ahead, her fear seemingly subsiding, or at least she was now hiding it better, she said quietly, "Thank you, Akira."

"Uh, don't mention it, really."

"I mean it," she glanced at him, her glare no longer the piercing icy cold it had been, but instead seemed more heated, fiery, furious. "There's just one thing though."

"What's that?"

"There was a part of me," she began quietly. "That wanted to get caught. So I could fight them, show them I'm not to be messed with."

Akira was more surprised at this than anything else. The men were certainly tough and this young woman looked fully determined to take them on and take them down. With that look, he was convinced she could have. "Me too," he agreed.

In silence, the four walked on back where they had come. People now got out of their ways, the image of two angry young yakuza and two furious young women enough to get people to give them space. Akira had to admit to himself, he preferred being an errand boy.

This is getting dangerous. God knows what those men are planning to do with these girls. I hope there's something I can do, even though it sounds stupid even to myself. But if there is something I can do, and if this is happening to more girls than just them, then damn straight I'm gonna try.

God, I fucking hate this city.

[Reviews are always welcome!]


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Beneath the Mask Part 1

The lights of the leBlanc hotel and event center radiated across Shuchifuko street as the four young adults approached the building. The image reminded Akira strongly of the previous night… God, had it really only been one day since he had been whisked away? So much had happened, and it seemed to only be getting more complicated. Now Akira was even helping to look after two endangered young women, and this meant an increase in stress and complication for him. He was surprised to find that the hotel which he felt as if was some kind of prison only an hour earlier, now seemed to be a safe haven for himself and his new friends. The realization unsettled him to the core.

"Hey," Ann said beside him, "is this the place?"

"Yeah, we're here," Akira replied almost solemnly. Ann noticed this and looked at him with a confused expression, but Akira was fixated on the lit-up sign above them to the point that he did not register her at all. "C'mon guys, let's get off these streets."

Awkwardly following Akira's uncharacteristically stoic instructions, the four made their way inside leBlanc. Greeted by a young man bellhop bowing to them at the door, the group walked quickly through the foyer, with Ann and Shiho taking in what little they could about their surroundings while being led quickly on by Akira and Ryuji. While they both were curious about this strange hotel, they did not object to being led to safety so quickly.

Walking up to the elevator, Akira pressed the button to summon it. The doors opened a moment later with a ding, and the four made their way inside. Akira pressed the button for the penthouse to the girls' obvious surprise.

"Wait," Ann said, "you live in the penthouse, Akira?"

"Yeah, I do," he responded plainly. "Long story, I'll fill you in later." The doors slid closed, and the elevator lurched as it began to rise.

"Oh, okay," Ann awkwardly replied. "Oh, and don't forget dinner, alright? Nothing calms my nerves like a nice meal," she forced a smile to her face.

Even though it was obviously forced, Akira could not help but smile back. Even when she was faking, her smile was cute to him. "Once we get settled, we'll get right on it, promise," he nodded. Ann nodded back, her fake smile turning a little more genuine.

"God," Ryuji muttered, "have they updated the elevator music at all in the last ten years?" he glared up to the speaker in the ceiling. "Every time I come here it's just disco music!" Akira only now payed attention to the muffled sounding music playing through what must be quite an old speaker. The Bee Gees' Stayin' Alive was playing through it, or at least attempting to do so.

"What," Akira smirked at his friend, "you don't like classic disco?"

"That makes you, like, the only person in Tokyo who doesn't," added Shiho with a girlish chuckle, something they had not seen of her in some time.

"Nah, I never liked disco," replied Ryuji. "Gimme some rock or metal music, for cryin' out loud! Maybe I should ask customer service if I can get some Guns n' Roses in the mix."

Ann chuckled to herself this time. "Isn't elevator music supposed to be relaxing though, Sakamoto?"

"My Michelle doesn't relax you?" At that, all four young adults had a small laugh, but a genuine one nonetheless.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the door slid open, revealing the swanky stylish penthouse Akira now reluctantly called "home". Ann and Shiho gasped as they saw the dimly lit foyer, and Ryuji offered some highly approving if uncharismatic comments. Akira flicked on the light switch to his left, turning on the lights in the kitchenette to illuminate the room better. And, he admitted to himself, to reduce the romantic ambiance the low lights and cityscape backdrop gave off. He may be a fledgling yakuza, but he was not about to do anything that could remotely be considered sleezy.

At least it looks like Sakura-san isn't home, he thought.

"Ho-o-oly shit!" Ryuji exclaimed as the lights came on. "So this is the Boss' pad, huh? Damn, Akira, you're living the high life!"

"No kidding!" added Ann enthusiastically. "These coffee makers look like they cost as much together as a car! And I've never even heard of this brand of sake!"

"Wait, you got expensive sake, man?" Ryuji suddenly whirled around, scanning the kitchen for the aforementioned bottle.

"No!" Akira said sternly. "No, no, no, and no! We will not be touching anything, tasting anything, and especially not getting into Sojiro's drinks… Ryuji!"

"What!?" Ryuji was holding in his hands a bottle of sake that Akira suspected would have a price tag as long as the bottle was tall.

"Put it down," Akira said as quickly as if he were rapping. "And let's just forget we saw it, okay?"

Ryuji looked to Akira, and then the girls, and then the bottle. All three others were glaring at him, and with an awkward smile and laugh, he placed it back on the rack he found it on. "I was just gonna look at the label," he said. "You know, to memorize the brand."

"Uh huh, sure," Akira nodded disingenuously.

Shiho then awkwardly took a seat at the kitchen table, folding her hands in her lap and sitting perfectly straight. "It is a lovely apartment though, Kurusu-kun," she said. "Are you perhaps related to this 'Boss'?"

Akira was completely lacking in a way to respond to that. He looked to Ryuji for guidance, but the blond young man only shrugged. Akira in turn sighed. Time for some bullshitting? Maybe? Should I just tell her? Yeah, real fucking good idea, genius. Tell the thoroughly rattled rape survivors that you're a yakuza. Let's not go with that. "Well, I'm not related to him," Akira said, "he's a family friend on my mom's side, and I'm staying with him for the time being."

"Oh, really?" asked Shiho. "Why are you not with your parents? Or in college?"

"Hey!" Ann interjected out of nowhere. "Guys, I am starving and I'm sure you three are too. Why don't we take a look at the room service menu, yeah? Since your host seems to hold an important position in the hotel, you think we can get a discount?"

"That's a great idea!" Ryuji quickly added. "Let's order a butt-ton of steaming hot ramen! Akira, why don't you call down and order us some, yeah? We're wastin' away over here already!"

"I don't even know if we're allowed to, Ryuji!"

"Won't they know if you're calling from the penthouse though, man?"

"Maybe, but I don't know for sure. I haven't met anyone in the hotel yet, so it's not like they'd trust me off the bat or something. Why don't we all just pitch in and pay for something of reasonable price?"

Ryuji grumbled under his breath. "Fiiine," he groaned. "Yeesh, and I was hoping to not take anything else out of my paycheck then I already have," he muttered under his breath.

"As long as we get some food," Ann added, "I'll be happier."

Shiho then said, "We didn't get to pay for food at the club. Let's just use the money we would have paid there."

"Alright," Akira sighed with relief. "I'll give them a call, you guys just hang tight in my room for now," he pointed to the guest room behind him. "I don't want Sojiro to get miffed if he comes back and sees anything out of place, so could you guys just hunker down in there for now? It's got plenty of room for us to sit and eat comfortably."

Shiho stood to her feet and bowed respectfully to Akira. "Thank you very much, Kurusu-kun," she said. "We really appreciate all you're doing for us."

"Yeah, she's right," Ann added, bowing in the same fashion. "We only just met but you've already done so much for us, Kurusu-kun. Thank you so much."

Akira felt both taken aback and awkward at the sudden praise, though he did not deny that it felt relieving to be recognized pleasantly for a good deed, unlike more recent experiences. "Don't worry about it at all, guys," he bowed his head with a smile. "I'm happy to help, and so is Ryuji. Don't leave him out of this."

"You're a godsend, man," Ryuji gave him a smirk and a thumbs up. "And he's right, ladies. We're happy to help. Now let's let the guy get us some grub, huh?" With more genuine smiles, the three young adults walked on into Akira's room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. With a slight sense of satisfaction welling inside him like he had already downed a perfectly prepared bowl of soup, he picked up the phone and called the hotel's restaurant using the directory conveniently placed next to the phone. He ordered four large servings of beef ramen with small dishes of tempura and other assortments of sushi on the side from the very gentlemanly sounding receptionist he spoke to, and then went to his room to join the others.

Walking into the room, Akira found his acquaintances sitting in a circle trying to make small talk with each other. The girls were sitting on the bed and Ryuji was on the floor, having taken off his jacket and laying it on the other side of the bed to now be wearing his maroon button-up. While they were obviously attempting to keep their minds and conversations on any subject that did not involve Kamoshida, it was apparent that it was not working as well as they had hoped.

Akira found them in stunted conversation regarding what Ann and Shiho had been up to since Ryuji left Shujin. And as was expected by then, Ann was holding up the majority of the conversation. "Remember that I was a part time model back then, Ryuji?" she asked the young man.

"Yeah, I remember. You were hardly ever around school after classes 'cuz you were always off doing a shoot."

"Yeah, I was," she nodded. "Right around the time you, uh, left, my career was really starting to pick up, so I was busy almost every week. And now it's finally become a real thing for me!" she said excitedly. "I'm even going to be on the cover of a magazine next month!"

"Wait," Akira interjected, "you're a model, Ann?"

"Yessir! A fashion model; I've been doing it seriously since high school. Up until recently, I've only really been doing stuff for magazines local to the Shibuya area, but my agency is getting me connected to larger labels as we speak. They say if I keep up the good work, they may be able to get me hooked up with Vague in under a year!"

"For real!?" Ryuji exclaimed. "Man, you really climbed the ladder, huh, Takamaki?"

"Congratulations," Akira added. "You must be very proud of yourself."

"Yeah, I am! But I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten nearly this far if it hadn't been for Shiho here."

"Oh, shut up, Ann," Shiho smiled. "I was barely present when you were gaining all that popularity, remember? You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Wait, 'not present'?" Ryuji asked. "What do ya mean, Suzui?"

Shiho covered her mouth with her hands, obviously having said something she did not intend to. Akira raised an eyebrow at her reaction. "Uh, something wrong, Shiho?"

In a very similar fashion to how she had acted back at the club, Shiho looked to her friend nervously, while Ann gave her a reassuring glance and nod. "Well," Shiho started slowly, "we did say we would tell you what happened when we got here, didn't we?"

"If you feel comfortable with it," said Akira.

"I think I'll only become more comfortable with it if I try to be more open about it," Shiho replied. "If we have time before food arrives, I mean. I don't want to get into a conversation like that while everyone is enjoying dinner."

Akira answered with, "We've got quite a bit of time before the food arrives. It's okay, Shiho, don't be ashamed of what you've got to say."

"Yeah, it totally is, both of you," said Ryuji. "We'll listen to ya, no matter what it is."

Shiho smiled again. She still appeared more than apprehensive, but she was definitely calmed regarding the situation. "Thank you, guys." Ann rubbed her shoulder and smiled at her, then brought her in to lean on her shoulder like she had in the club.

Akira walked past the bed to his backpack sitting against the wall. He reached inside and pulled out a small plastic container with two circular ends. "Don't mind me, guys. You can start talking, just taking out my contacts."

"Wait, you wear contacts?" asked Ryuji.

"Yup. My eyesight is crap, I get it from my dad." Akira placed the container down and took hold of his left eyelid, pulling it open with one hand and using the other to remove the lens. Ryuji made a quiet "Bleh" sound as he watched him. After Akira removed both lenses and placed them in the container, he reached into his backpack again and took out another, larger cylindrical container. Unfolding it revealed a pair of normal looking glasses which he put on. "I don't normally wear these out," he said, turning around and sitting on the floor next to Ryuji. "Honestly, I thought they always made me look like a nerd or something, so I started wearing contacts early in high school."

Ann raised an eyebrow. "You think you look like a nerd?"

"Uh, yeah. Got made fun of a lot in middle school. I know, it was probably just kids being kids, but I still got contacts and, well, never was made fun of again."

"I'm sure it was just kids being dumb," Ann replied, "because you look good in them, Akira."

Akira was taken back by the compliment, and Ryuji looked to his friend with a knowing glance and nod. "Oh, uh, thanks, Ann," Akira said, starting to play with his glasses on impulse.

"No problem. Oh, Shiho, sorry! You wanted to talk and we stole the floor from you."

"No, it's okay, Ann. Just gave me another minute to gather my thoughts." Shiho rung her hands together for a moment, but then took a deep breath and relaxed them in her lap. Her tense shoulders dropped and her jaw unclenched. "Kamoshida was a menace at Shujin," she began, "and no one did anything about it, especially the adults. Everyone turned a blind eye to those he abused, be it the sport teams or the girls, like Ann and I." Akira leaned forward, listening intently while Ryuji maintained a more relaxed posture, save for the glower that creeped onto his face. "I was actually on the girls' volleyball team, and was set up to be a starter at the national tournament during our second year. But Kamoshida only saw it as another opportunity to abuse his position.

"While both the guys' and girl's teams were being pushed well beyond anything remotely reasonable, Kamoshida was also preying on some of the members of the girls' team and the cheerleading squad, offering advancement in their respective program in exchange for… relations," Shiho grimaced. "When he tried to get me to go home with him after a particularly brutal practice, I refused and threatened to tell everyone about his perversions if he continued to harass me… which turned out to be a mistake," her voice caught in her throat suddenly.

"That's wrong and you know it, Shiho!" Ann interjected. "There was no way you could have known what would happen just for standing up for yourself and your team."

"But it still put you in danger!" Shiho shot back.

"Whoa, hey, guys!" Akira raised his hands. "It's okay, we can stop talking about this if you want."

Shiho shook her head and rubbed a couple stray tears from her eyes. "No, it's okay, I'm sorry," she said. "These are just painful memories."

"None of it was your fault," Ann reassured her. "You want me to tell this part of the story?" Shiho paused for a moment, staring into space, and then nodded before leaning on her friend's shoulder. "Okay, I'll take over for a sec." Ann put her hand around Shiho's shoulder and rubbed it gently as the girl closed her eyes, calming herself. "After Shiho stood up to Kamoshida, he came to me and told me how he would get Shiho removed from the volleyball team if I didn't… well, get in bed with the bastard."

"Holy shit," said Akira.

"We all knew that the faculty were aware of how much of a creep he was with the girls and how he was abusing the boys, but they were all covering for him because having an Olympic athlete as an instructor was getting the school a lot of extra funding and publicity. If the news broke that the school was harboring an abuser, who knows what would have happened. Anyway, I kept Kamoshida at arm's length as much as I could without telling anyone, even Shiho here. When he'd call me, I'd say I have to study or go to a shoot or something, but I still had to have phone sex with the creep at least three times a week for a month." Ann sighed and shook her head, as if dispelling a bad dream. "God, he had some fucked up tastes. The things he made me say… Ugh, no. When Kamoshida started getting more and more pushy, I also found out that he was getting harder and harder on Shiho in practice, and the only way he would let up was if I actually fucked him.

Finally, I told Shiho what was going on when I found out about another injury she got at his hands. And then—"

"Wait," Shiho shot up from Ann's shoulder. "Please, let me, Ann. I need to get better at talking about these things."

"Oh. Uh, okay. If you feel up to it."

"I don't but I have to do this."

"Shiho," Ann said in a quieter, almost foreboding tone, "are you sure you don't want me to tackle this one?"

"I am, Ann. It's okay," Shiho nodded, and Ann did in return. "This all happened only a couple weeks after your run in with him, Ryuji. The whole school was in an uproar about it, but you might not know that most of us took your side in the whole thing."

"Wait, for real?" Ryuji sat forward immediately.

"Yeah, we did," Shiho nodded. "Most of us in sports, at least. When we found out that Mishima was the one that ratted on you, well, both the track and volleyball teams started to gang up on him, calling him a traitor and other, more crass words. Not all of them were on your side, but most were; more than enough to turn Mishima's life into a living hell."

"Oh god," Ryuji muttered. "I-I had no idea."

"That part isn't your fault, Ryuji. We all were confused and angry, and since we couldn't do anything to Kamoshida, some of us turned to Mishima instead."

"Still," Ryuji said, "he may have made me take the fall for Kamoshida, and he might be a coward, but he was just a kid. I didn't wanna do anything like that to him."

Ann then replied sympathetically, "You weren't in control of them, Ryuji. There was nothing you could do."

"I know, you're both right," he nodded. "It just makes the whole thing sting even more. But don't stop on my account, Shiho. I'm guessing the sports programs took a dive with that shitstorm."

"You'd be right. For the next couple weeks, everyone was constantly arguing or fighting, or at the very least refusing to cooperate. All our practices were a complete mess, and our games were even worse, meaning Kamoshida was acting more and more abusive towards all of us, especially me. That's when he called me to his office."

"Oh god," Akira sighed.

Shiho's head fell as she continued, talking more directly to the floor than anyone present. "Mishima came over to me one day after practice and told me that Kamoshida summoned me. I knew exactly what it meant, and he seemed to as well in spite of not telling me. When I got to the office, Kamoshida immediately started railing on me, calling mine and my team's performance disgraceful, worthless, which was all pretty normal at that point, but he was a lot angrier about it. He told me that if I wanted to stay on the team, that I'd have to sleep with him." Shiho paused, another stray tear falling from her eye. "Then he grabbed me… he groped my chest so hard it bruised. I tried to get away but he instead pushed me to the floor, and I landed right on my bruised knee he had given me a couple days before. He told me I had two days to decide and kicked me out of the office." Her voice trailed off at that, and Ann immediately continued.

"I found Shiho crying on a bench outside after school and she tried to tell me the bruises were just from practice, but I knew better. I told her all about how Kamoshida was hitting on me; it had even gotten to the point where he was trying to do it in public, probably as some kind of power play. Shiho still didn't tell me about Kamoshida, but I decided I was going to do something about it. I wasn't sure what, but I had to try. That night, he called me again multiple times on my private phone, eventually demanding that I meet him the next night, threatening both me and Shiho if I didn't. I didn't ultimately have to, but it wasn't for a good reason."

"It's the—" Ryuji interjected but cut himself off. "I mean, I think I know what happened next."

"So you heard?" Shiho asked?

Ryuji paused and hanged his head low before answering. "Yeah, I heard."

"Heard what?" asked Akira. "What the hell could that guy have done now?"

"It wasn't what he did," Shiho replied quickly, frantically. "It was what I did."

"Shiho," Ann started, but her friend turned and glared at her, silencing her immediately.

"After everything Ann told me," she continued in the same frantic tone, "I spent that whole night in on/off anxiety attacks. If I didn't give into Kamoshida, there was no telling what he'd do. He'd probably slander both me and Ann, have me taken off the team, expelled or something else or all of it! But if I did give in, I'd have to sleep with that scum, and so would Ann. I couldn't handle that responsibility, the abuse, the possibility of either side of it. The next day, I was sleep deprived, dreading that day's practice and my next interaction with Kamoshida, and so I…" Akira leaned in intently while Ryuji could barely look at her as she explained it, "…I jumped from the school roof."

"You did what!?" Akira exclaimed, standing to his feet. "That jackoff actually caused you to jump!?"

Shiho nodded. "It was my choice, so I'm at least mostly responsible, but it was because of his abuse and my fear of what he'd do if I tried to go against him. I couldn't h-h-handle it," she started to choke up but forced her way through it. "It was selfish and stupid but I wasn't in my right state of mind, so I thought it was the best."

"Exactly, Shiho," Ann said, "you weren't in your right mindset. You were beyond stressed and exhausted, it's not your fault."

"I know, thank you, Ann. I'm just still working on the guilt I feel sometimes, guys," she turned to the boys. "I often have to remind myself that it wasn't all my fault, that it was his."

"You're damn right it wasn't your fault," said Akira as he sat back down. "You were manipulated and abused and given an ultimatum no teen – no, no person should have to deal with ever!"

Ryuji made a drawn out guttural grunting noise to begin his addition to the subject. "I heard about it in the news after they kicked me out," he said wrathfully. "I know you and I didn't know each other well, Shiho, but it still pissed me the hell off like you wouldn't believe! It's one thing picking on us guys, but driving a girl to attempt suicide!? God, how fucked in the head do you have to be to sink that low?"

"More than you know, Sakamoto," Ann glared. "The guy was a goddamn sadist. He took pleasure in causing people pain, especially younger women. He told me on the phone many times while he was… self-attending about how much he wanted to hurt me. He made me cry in fear every fucking time and it only pleased him more!" Ann stood to her feet and grunted in a similar way to Ryuji, glowering icy daggers at a memory only visible to her. "The main reason I didn't do anything to stop him for so long was because I was so afraid of what he could do to me." Ann wrapped her arms around herself and sat back on the bed, her fiery demeanor becoming cold, distant, and utterly afraid.

Shiho then brought her friend's head to her shoulder before continuing. "I was in a coma for a week," she said solemnly. "When I woke up, I could barely move. I was in rehab for months, but at least I had Ann at my side the whole time. She'd visit every day she was allowed, bring me gifts, tell me about my life… consoled me when I felt even more depressed than when I had jumped. This blondie was always there for me, and I'm more than thankful for that."

"Well, that's good," Akira said, "but what about Kamoshida? What happened to that guy? Did you end up doing anything to get back at him, Ann?"

"I did… as much as I could," she replied. "In order to get him the hell out of the school while calling as little attention to the sports teams as I could, I filed a restraining order entirely on my own. I didn't bring Shiho into it, I didn't even get him arrested. Just went to court, got the most secretive restraining order I could and it forced him to resign. The story the principal fed the school was total bullshit, saying that Kamoshida 'was pursuing other athletic and business endeavors'. Anyway, it got him out of the school and allowed Shiho and I to graduate free of any more trauma." Ann then locked gazes with Ryuji. "The athletics programs floundered even after we left without Kamoshida. They went through coaches like water, and the students were all at each other's throats due to the drama. We didn't win another tournament while Shiho and I were there, and I've heard Shujin still hasn't since."

"Christ," said Ryuji. "I can't imagine what it must have been like for the guys. I had it bad, but at least I got to seriously compete for a little bit," Ryuji sighed. "They must have been crushed."

"We all were," Shiho said. "Everything tanked after that, even though I wasn't able to play again consistently until my last year. God, it was all a mess." Shiho sat up straight again, looking exhausted but calm as a koi pond. "Thank you, all of you, for listening," she said. "I honestly feel better getting to talk through it."

"Thank you for talking," Akira smiled at her. "Both of you."

Ann met his smile in turn. "We appreciate it, really, but we've talked your guys' ears off enough, I think. Why don't you guys tell us what you've been up to this whole time? Especially how you got to live in a place like this, Akira."

"Oh, uh," Akira stammered, trying to find a suitable answer. "It's, uh, a very long story."

Shiho held her hand to her mouth and giggled. "And ours wasn't?"

"Got me there," Akira conceded.

"C'mon, man," Ryuji nudged him, "I think we can trust 'em. They trust us well enough already, I think they've earned it."

"I wasn't against it, dude. Just trying to find a good starting point—"

The elevator in the entryway dinged, cutting Akira off. He and Ryuji knew exactly what that meant, and they felt a sudden surge of apprehension. "Hey," said the gruff voice of a familiar older man, "who ordered the feast in here?"

"Oh, is that the room service?" Ann perked up with a wide smile, and an unladylike grumble coming from her stomach. She clutched her midsection immediately and her cheeks went beet red.

"Is that a girl's voice I hear, Akira?" Sojiro asked from the next room. The foursome heard two sets of footsteps make their way to the kitchen, and then a heavy platter being placed on the table. "Thank you," Sojiro said to the other person.

"My pleasure," said a younger man's voice. "Enjoy your meal, Sakura-san."

"Oh, I don't think I'll be the one eating it," Sojiro chuckled. Akira and company walked out into the entryway tentatively, coming to see Sojiro handing a check to a well-dressed hotel employee. The employee bowed to Sojiro and walked back into the elevator. Sojiro turned around to inspect the group, his expression unreadable. "Two young ladies for you boys," he commented nonchalantly. "Seems you're having a good night."

"They are only friends, sir," Ryuji bowed. "Please, allow us to pay for the food."

"Oh, quiet, Sakamoto," Sojiro waved dismissively. "Consider it an advance on your check, both of you. Now, sit down and eat before it gets cold," he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put on in his mouth. "We have business to discuss, boys, but it can wait a bit. For now, just eat."

Ann and Shiho both bowed in unison. "Thank you very much, sir," Shiho said.

"We hope we are not intruding," said Ann.

"Not at all," Sojiro shook his head. "Just don't get too loud, okay? I'm going to go clean up a bit. Don't start any fires, Akira," he said as he walked away.

"Yeah, gotcha." The group then sat at the table and started dishing out the food, all four taking very large portions to sate their exponential appetites.

"What's his deal?" Ann asked. "He seems nice, if a bit aloof."

"Like I said," Akira replied, "long story."

Amidst placing two more sushi roles on her plate, Shiho said, "Well, we are all ears, just like you were for us."

"Yeah, fill us in, Akira," said Ann with a smile.

"Don't leave us hangin', dude," Ryuji smirked before taking a monstrous bite of his ramen.

"Alright, fine," Akira said. "Once we're done eating, I'll tell you guys my story." Just hope you don't run away when you hear it, girls.

[Reviews are welcome!]


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Beneath the Mask Part 2

The steaming hot ramen noodles and broth entered Akira's mouth and immediately made his eyes close and brought a smile to his face. His mother made some excellent ramen in her own right, but this was far beyond anything he had previously thought possible. The strong taste of the beef and vegetables in the broth mixed with the thin, soft noodles like a perfectly orchestrated symphony in his mouth, his trance only interrupted by Ann emitting a similar, yet more verbose reaction.

"Mmmmmm!" she crooned from across the table, her smile as bright and warm as the morning sun in Spring. "This might be the best ramen I've ever had!" Ann exclaimed. "God, I don't know what kind of seasoning or what quality beef they put in this, but it's just divine!"

Shiho, while more proper and quiet then her friend, let out a satisfied hum in her throat as well as she began eating. "This really is wonderful," she remarked with less gusto than Ann, but her satisfaction was apparent all the same. "This hotel must have one amazing kitchen staff."

Ryuji, on the other hand, let out some kind of moaning growl deep in his throat. "Every bite," he began before slurping down more noodles, "just gets better and better! I can't believe I haven't come here for dinner yet. This is incredible!"

Smacking her lips and slupring up more noodles, Ann added, "You know, this night may have been kinda shitty, at least compared to how Shiho and I planned it, but this totally makes up for at least a bit of it. Akira, you're an angel," she smiled at him playfully as she picked up a roll of sushi with her chopsticks.

"Uh, thanks, Ann," Akira replied with at least some confidence. "I'm glad you're all happy," he nodded and grinned.

"But then again," Ann continued, "how do you even live here? Sakura-san isn't your dad, so where are your parents?"

"I'm also curious about that," Shiho added. "I mean, this is an incredibly nice, and likely equally expensive apartment. You live in an expensive, exclusive hotel penthouse. How did you come to be here in the first place?"

"Would you believe that I'm the descendent of a shogun?" Akira deadpanned.

"Nope," replied Ann.

"Not at all," said Shiho.

"What the hell, man?" asked Ryuji after swallowing a large roll of sushi.

Akira nodded apathetically. "Yeah, that wasn't gonna fly." Akira finished his bowl of ramen and placed his chopsticks on the table. He wipe his mouth with a napkin and looked to the floor. "Well," he began, "I did promise that you'd hear after dinner was done. As long as Ryuji is up to it."

"They were gonna find out eventually," Ryuji ate another roll of sushi then shrugged, leaning back in his seat with one leg over the other. "Might as well."

"Find out what?" asked Ann with eyebrow raised.

Ryuji smirked. "You haven't already guessed?"

Ann paused for a long moment, smacking her lips and glaring at the floor. "I have," her eyes came back up to meet his, "but I didn't like it. I didn't want to believe you went down that path after getting kicked out of school."

Ryuji shook his head, his smirk disappearing. "It's not exactly what I had planned either, Takamaki. But I will say, how I got swept up in this mess is a hell of a lot less interesting than our mysterious friend over here," he pointed his thumb to Akira.

"Really just gonna make me start us off, huh?"

"Like I said, yours is more interesting." Ryuji turned back to the girls. Ann stared at him inquisitively while Shiho wiped her face with a napkin. "You're right about us, Ann," he began in a dry tone, but not one without a sharp undercurrent, like a rusty knife hidden under an elegant jacket. "We're yakuza."

Shiho's eyes went wide and Ann's gaze became darker, narrower, focused on Ryuji. A spark of nostalgia started within the blond young man as he saw Ann's expression. It was one he had received many times when they were young, growing up in middle and high school together. Ann would flash him a very similar expression whenever he said something off-color or stupid, which was frequent back then.

"I heard Kamoshida allude to something like that back at the club," she began, her voice stable, calm, but icy, "and had my suspicions given how you both were dressed, and especially when we got up to this freaking penthouse, but…" Her voice trailed off, and to Ryuji's complete surprised, her disapproving glare softened. The blond girl looked… sad.

Akira leaned forward in his seat, trying to read the situation as to garner whether or not Ann was about to run and hide or call the police or both. "Please, Ann," he said, "let us explain."

"Ryuji," her saddened eyes shot up to meet his, "I know we weren't, like, close or anything, back in school, but when you got expelled, I really was sad about it. I've always been sure you did something stupid, but I was also sure you did it for the right reasons."

"Uh, thanks?"

"And I hoped that you were going to end up doing something better!" she quickly exclaimed, to everyone's surprise.

"Ann, please," Shiho interjected, "try to calm down—"

"Calm down? I'm sorry, but this is really important, Shiho." She turned back to face Ryuji, who's feelings about the situation were imperceptible. "I don't know what exactly happened with Kamoshida, but I really hoped it could get you down a good path. Maybe go to a new school or something, get a good job! Not like… like this."

"Ann, please!" Shiho frantically added again.

"Wait, Shiho," Ryuji said. "Ann's fine, really. I honestly didn't think you'd care that much about how I ended up." Ryuji rubbed his face with his hand as if waking up from a deep sleep. "But you're right, it didn't take long for me to end up in this business after I left, but I'm not supposed to be the one telling the story. It's not as interesting as Akira's anyway. Don't you wanna know how we got set up in a swanky place like this, anyway?"

"You're just throwing me under the bus, you know that?" Akira remarked.

"Hey, I'm your senior in this biz'. Don't talk back to me, greenie."

Ann rolled her eyes at the boys. "Fine, we did say we'd let Akira talk, I guess." She folded her arms and sat back in her chair. "And… sorry for getting worked up, all of you," she added. "I think I'm still super stressed over the whole night."

"It's totally fine," Akira nodded.

Ryuji smirked at Ann. "And like I said, I appreciate it, Takamaki. Really."

Ann nodded and smiled faintly.

"Please, Akira," Shiho motioned to him, "tell us, uh, whatever it is that Sakamoto-kun has been so coy about."

Akira gave Ryuji a sideways glance, to which Ryuji responded with a nonchalant shrug. Akira clicked his tongue and shrugged in turn. "Alright, guess I'm gonna be the chatty one now," he conceded. "Truth be told, it isn't a very long story, just a shitty one."

"Worse than ours?" asked Ann jokingly.

"Yeah, uh, no, not really," Akira shook his head with an awkward smile. "Basically, I'm as new to this area as you girls are," Akira began. "And I'm not really a yakuza. I got caught up in a bad situation involving one of them last week, and got pulled out here against my will."

"How'd it happen?" asked Ann.

Akira's disposition darkened. "I was walking home last Tuesday from the pier by my neighborhood. Some of the kids from my high school were out there having a party, drinking on the beach and stuff. Not really my scene, but I stuck around for a little while mostly just watching the guys chat up the girls. When I left, it was pretty late so there was hardly anyone out and about, which made it easy to hear this lady screaming." Ann and Shiho listened more intently at that.

"Only a couple streets from my house, I saw a guy grab a girl's arm as she was trying to get away from him. He was drunk off his ass and just getting more aggressive. She called for help and I rushed over, telling the guy to piss off home. The woman got more frantic and the guy got more confrontational, eventually lashing out at me. I punched him right in the nose and he fell on his ass. That's when the cops showed up."

"God," muttered Ann. "Did they arrest you?"

"They did. Don't have a damn clue what the woman was thinking, but she defended the asshat that was assaulting her instead of me, even while she had just been hiding behind me in full view of the police. They took me into the station and held me there for the night. As the cops took me away, I saw the douchebag that was assaulting the woman talking to a couple cops on the side of the road about... something. I don't have any idea who he was or what he was talking about, but when I finally got sent home, it was only a few days before I got taken here."

"Taken?" asked Shiho. "That sounds foreboding."

"Probably even more foreboding when I add that I don't even remember most of it because I was fucking chloroformed."

"What the hell!?" Ann exclaimed, standing up from her seat. "You're staying in the house of the man who chloroformed you!?"

"Well," Ryuji interjected, "technically Sojiro wasn't the one that did it."

"That's beside the point!" Ann snapped at him. "You were kidnapped, Akira! What about your parents? What happened to them? Haven't they been searching for you?"

"I actually talked to my mom this morning." Akira paused, and his next words came out slowly, harshly, like he had to put all his strength into pulling them out of his throat. "She said that she knew the whole time, that she knows Sojiro… That she was once a yakuza too." Ann and Shiho had no response, save for Ann slowly sinking back into her chair. Ryuji watched Akira intently from the side. "She didn't give me much info beyond that, but she did say that she trusted Sojiro with her life, and that the same goes for me."

Ann and Shiho looked to each other, confused and flabbergasted by what they had heard. There was an awkward silence over the room, as if a thick fog had descended on the dining room. Akira felt a tightness in his chest and gut as he watched the girls' reaction to his story. The recounting of the last week's events left him feeling clammy, agitated, morose. The story sounded even more ridiculous to him when said aloud.

"I guess," Ann began slowly, "that if anyone's judgment can be trusted regarding people, it's your own mom. If she trusts Sojiro, especially with her life like she said, then there could be some truth in it."

Shiho then said, "He did not seem like an evil man. But then again, we have been wrong before…"

"This ain't anything like that," Ryuji immediately replied, his tone stern and harsh. "The Boss is letting him live here now. If he wanted to do something to Akira, he would have just had one of the Family men take care of it."

"The fact that you're so quick to say that is scary, Ryuji," Ann muttered.

Ryuji was about to snap back at her, but refrained quickly, shaking his head. "You got a point, Takamaki," he admitted. "But there's just some things about the situation you wouldn't understand. Trust us though, you're safe here. Nothing remotely bad is gonna happen to ya anytime soon with any of our guys."

Ann glowered at him before responding. "How can you be so sure? You're criminals, for God's sakes!"

"And we've got more rules than you can imagine."

"Oh, wonderful!" Ann rolled her eyes. "At least you've got some kind of code of conduct."

"Hey," said the silky smooth voice of Sojiro from behind them, causing Ann to yelp, "something wrong, guys?" Sojiro asked before letting out a long yawn. "You sound like you're having an argument down here."

Ann whirled around in her chair, shaking her hands in front of her as her heart pounded in her chest like the drums of a metal song, with Shiho and Akira feeling the same as they watched. "Oh, w-we were having no t-trouble, sir!" she sputtered. "Just a, uh, lively discussion, that's all! I am so, so sorry if we kept you up," she bowed.

"Oh no, not at all," replied Sojiro nonchalantly. "I won't be going to bed for a while. But you kids sounded like you were getting pretty heated, so I came down to make sure nothing was up."

"Just a bit of a disagreement," Akira said. "Nothing serious to worry about, we're sorry for bothering you."

Sojiro chuckled deep in his throat. He raised an eyebrow and smirked at the young man. "Nothing serious, huh? You being chloroformed and taken here isn't serious to you?" The four young adults did not respond, only stared as if they had been caught with elicit magazines or drugs. "Oh, come on, kid, did you think I hadn't heard any of your arguing or story time? These old ears aren't completely gone yet, you know."

"Sir," Ryuji stood to his feet and bowed, "please do not be offended by us. We're all tired and tonight has been very, uh, complicated."

"Hoo boy, don't I know it, Sakamoto," Sojiro sighed. "But stop bowing, dammit. You're not at risk of getting grounded or something. Sit down, kid, and finish your meal." Awkwardly, with an embarrassed blush, Ryuji did as he was told. Sojiro sighed again. "Girls, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about any of this. I assure you, you're both completely safe here, as is Akira. And yes, I've known his mother for, god, her whole life basically. I'd trust her with my life, and she'd do the same for me."

"They're just words without proof," Ann muttered.

"Ann!" Akira glared at her.

"No, no, kid, it's okay," said Sojiro. "She's completely right, it's just hearsay to them, and they have every right to be suspicious. However, there was something I wanted to discuss with four of you before you went off to bed."

"Huh?" Shiho asked, bewildered. "What do you need us for? We're not yak—uh, your employees."

Sojiro smirked at Shiho. "It's okay, Miss, you can say it. I won't get too offended, promise." Seeing Shiho and Ann only appear more anxious at that, he added, "That was a joke." The girls both nodded awkwardly, with Ann letting out a sigh of relief.

Akira felt only more confused. "You said earlier that there was something you need to talk about with Ryuji and I. Is this related to that?"

"It is, yeah. But, it has to do with the girls as well, so I figured they might as well hear it too. And before you say anything," he looked to Ann and Shiho, "no, you're not in any kind of trouble with me."

"With you?" Ann asked. "Are we in trouble with someone else?"

Sojiro paused, looking over the four young adults, then turned around and walked to the counter, taking out a bottle of wine and pouring a glass for himself. "In all honesty, Miss, uh…"

"Takamaki," Ann said, "Ann Takamaki, uh, sir."

"Takamaki-san, gotcha," Sojiro nodded before taking a sip of the deep red wine. "And you, Miss?" he looked to Shiho.

"Shiho Suzui, sir," Shiho bowed respectfully.

"Ah, that will make things easier now," he took another sip of wine. "As I was saying, ladies, in all honesty, you may well be in trouble with someone. After you four left the Asylum, I had a sit down myself with Nakano-san, and he filled me in on all the trouble you got yourself and your friends into, Ryuji." Akira expected Ryuji to apologize and bow to the Boss, but instead he glared at him, then averted his gaze shamefully. "Nakano even had security camera footage of the whole scene between you and that 'Kamoshida' gentleman, as you called him among all the swearing."

"Gentleman?" Ryuji asked, his voice and mannerisms growing harsher by the second. "You call that guy a gentleman?"

"Let me finish," Sojiro said with a commanding voice that allayed any other response Ann and Shiho had for Kamoshida being referred to so respectfully. "I was going to say that causing a scene with the man turned out to be something of a good thing, Ryuji."

"For real?" asked Ryuji, completely baffled.

"Yup," Sojiro nodded, taking another drink of wine. "Nakano told you boys about the suspected kidnappings around the club, right? Well, turns out the guys who were with Kamoshida matched the descriptions given to him by some of the hostesses at the club. Nakano said that they'd received a couple reports about girls being aggressively hit on outside the club, even being followed around, and those guys looked exactly like how some of these men were described."

"'Some' of the guys?" Ann asked. "You mean there are more?"

"More have been reported, yeah. But the most important detail Ryuji inadvertently got for us was that one of the men with Kamoshida happened to match the description of one of the men said to be involved in the most recent kidnapping, almost down to the detail. He had a different haircut, but his face and build were exactly alike." Sojiro finished the glass of wine with a long gulp. "The night of the kidnapping, two girls reported being harassed by a man exactly like one of Kamoshida's buddies, and then they claimed to be followed by the same man, who had a buddy with him at the time. That night, one of the girls went missing, never showing up at her hotel."

"Oh my god," Ann said under her breath.

"That's terrifying!" Shiho exclaimed, feeling a slight sweat start to accumulate on her face.

"It's not easy to admit," said Sojiro in a dark tone, "but if you girls have history with this Kamoshida man, it seems that you may have been in more danger tonight than you had thought. We can't say for certain yet, but it looks like Kamoshida may be involved with these scumbags. I've already began an investigation to get them the hell out of my city," Sojiro said, nearly growling the last few words. He glared down at his nose, though not at any of his four guests. He took the bottle of wine in hand again and refilled his glass.

Ann shook her head disapprovingly after a moment. "You really care that much?" she asked vindictively. "You're a criminal too, aren't you? What does it matter to someone like you what a bunch of creeps are doing around town?"

Ryuji slammed a fist on the table. "The hell, Takamaki!? You really think we're all like Kamoshida!?"

"Quiet," Sojiro commanded. "As a matter of fact, Takamaki-san, I care about it quite a bit. I'll make this clear for all four of you: I know the kind of gruesome business men like them are into with an m.o. like this. I know what they do, what they're capable of." Until now Sojiro had spoken as calmly and cool as he had the whole rest of the conversation, but his tone then turned far more stern. "And I will not tolerate that kind of sadistic shit anywhere in my city."

"What do you mean?" asked Akira. "Do you know what they're all up to?"

"Not for certain, no, but there's not a lot of possible explanations when it comes to stalking and kidnapping beautiful young women. I've already assigned new security around the Asylum, and tomorrow the investigation begins. These men will be dealt with quickly, I assure you. But for now, we can't say for certain if the streets will be safe for you girls this time of night, so I've already gotten a room ready for you one floor down."

Ann had half a mind to protest, but she could not deny to herself that Sojiro had a point, and that she was already terrified of going back onto the streets again. She was still thinking over her answer when Shiho bowed her head and said, "Thank you very much for the hospitality, sir. Can you tell us what it will cost?"

"Not a damn thing, of course," Sojiro smirked. "You're taking shelter here, so I can cover one night free of charge for you. Your luggage is already being moved from your previous hotel and will be here within the hour. It'll be moved to your room for you, of course."

"Oh, that's far too much," Shiho insisted. "We have to pay you at least some."

Sojiro let out another deep chuckle. "It's already taken care of, so no you don't. It's on the house, and that's all there is to it."

Ann still felt incredibly apprehensive regarding staying in a hotel owned by yakuza, but she had to admit that this man seemed to wish them no ill will, and Akira and Ryuji seemed comfortable with him. Perhaps there was some truth to his words after all. "Alright," Ann nodded, "we'll stay the night." She stood up from her seat and bowed. "Thank you for everything," she said, "and I am very sorry if I offended you in any way."

"Heh, I'm too old and jaded to be put off by a few words. You're completely fine, Takamaki-san. Now, why don't you girls wrap anything you need with these guys and go check out your room, huh? Room 472 one floor down; the maid will let you in once you get down there and give you a key."

Ann brought a friendly smile to her face. It was forced, yes, but only slightly. "Thank you again, Sakura-san. We'll be on our way in a minute."

"Yes, thank you very much," added Shiho.

"Not a problem, kids. Now finish up here and get some rest, all of you. Ryuji, you can stay here tonight too if you like."

"Yeah, thanks, Boss," smiled Ryuji, seeming a bit more relaxed than he had been.

Sojiro nodded before yawning again, then took his glass of wine back upstairs, heading to his bedroom and leaving the four young adults alone again.

"Well," Akira remarked, "that went well… I think."

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Ann held her head in hand, looking almost dazed. "We're staying with yakuza, Shiho! This is completely insane, to say the least!" She paused at that, her expression turning from angry and agitated to downcast, uncertain. "It's hard to believe this is all actually happening, and… that…"

"Kamoshida is back," Shiho finished for her, her eyes blank, her gaze unfocused. "I know… I really thought we were through with him."

"Hey, girls," Akira spoke up as sympathetically as he could muster, "I don't think this is a good time to be thinking about that, you know? It's been a long night for all of us, so we should try to go to sleep with clear heads, right?"

Ann and Shiho glanced at him, both appearing upset which caused Akira to regret trying to pep them up for a moment. But then their heads fell again, looking to the floor. Shiho sighed, Ann nodded. "You're right," the blond muttered slowly, "we really need some rest." Ann let out a small sniffle and then rubbed her eyes. "Come on, Shiho," she turned to her friend, "let's hit the hay."

Shiho stood up slowly, awkwardly, unbalanced. "Okay," she whispered. "I hope our stuff gets here soon. I'm beat."

"Me too, sister," Ann put a hand on her shoulder, "me too."

Akira and Ryuji stood up to walk them to the elevator. It was only about ten feet from the dining room but both young men felt a strong sense of sympathy for the girls, and with that came a desire to support them anyway they could.

"You girls gonna be okay tonight?" Ryuji asked in an uncharacteristically soft and somber tone.

Both girls turned around to face them after Ann called the elevator. Their eyes were already misty and red; it made Akira's heart hurt for them, and it only hurt more knowing that he had no idea how they really felt. "Normally," Ann began with a sigh, "I would make some kind of joke to deflect the tension, or just try to pump Shiho and myself up, you know? But… I know that I'd just be lying to you guys if I tried to act like we were totally okay. And frankly," Ann covered her mouth and let out a long yawn, two stray tears falling from her eyes, "I'm too tired to even try."

"I'm just as exhausted," added Shiho. "But thank you again for everything, guys. It really means more than you know."

"Yeah, for real," said Ann. "You've been great, so you two deserve some rest too."

"Thanks for that," Akira smiled and nodded.

"Don't think a damn thing of it," Ryuji smirked confidently, putting a hand on his hip. "We're happy to help, really."

Neither Ann nor Shiho could help but smile at their companions, giggling lightly to themselves. "We really appreciate it," said Ann with a wide, sunny grin.

The elevator dinged behind them and the door slid open. The four companions said their goodnights and the girls stepped into the elevator. With a final wave, the door closed, leaving Akira and Ryuji alone in the entryway.

Ryuji awkwardly whistled and shrugged his shoulders. "That almost got really rough, man."

"Yeah, I thought Ann was gonna beat up Sojiro immediately. Probably would have put a dent in the nice dinner atmosphere we had going."

"Yeah, no shit." With a tired slouch, Ryuji walked over to one of the seats in the foyer and sat down hard on it, sighing in relief as he made contact. "I think I'll just crash out here tonight, dude," Ryuji said as he folded his legs, practically melting into the chair. "No need to get all up in your space, I can just sleep on the couch over there or something."

"You sure? It doesn't look too comfy to me."

"As long as it's not the hard floor, I'm good." Ryuji closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of him, he looked as if he was quickly drifting to sleep, until a familiar voice interrupted them again.

"Don't pass out yet, kid," Sojiro said from the top of the stairs, instantly stirring Ryuji to a proper sitting position. "We got some more business to discuss."

"Geez," Akira muttered, "are you just always eavesdropping on us, Sojiro?"

"Nope, just have good timing," replied the old man as he descended the staircase. "You can take a seat as well, Akira, as long as you don't fall asleep like your friend."

"I didn't fall asleep, Boss," Ryuji replied with a tired groan, "just was working out where to crash for the night is all."

"Uh huh," muttered Sojiro. To the left of Ryuji's seat was a two-person couch. Sojiro sat himself down on it and Akira followed suit awkwardly. He was barely used to being near the man, so sharing a couch with him was still uncomfortable.

Ryuji pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket and put one in his mouth. As he grabbed for the lighter, he stopped himself and asked Sojiro, "Oh, you mind, boss?"

"Do you smoke any of the cheap shit?"

"Of course not. 'Old Cedar' premier line, sir. Never leave home without it."

Sojiro shrugged and sat back in his seat. "Fine, I'll let that brand slide. Just don't want to smoke up my home with peasant crap."

"I hear ya, Boss." Ryuji lit the cigarette he held in his mouth and took a long breath of it before blowing out a large, foggy puff.

"So," Akira interjected impatiently, "what more do you need to tell us right now, Sojiro? I thought you were ushering us off to bed."

"I'll be ushering you off to take out the hotel garbage if you don't watch your tongue, boy," Sojiro glanced at him dismissively. Akira did indeed watch his tongue. "I wanted to speak to you two about what we discussed earlier with your Kamoshida… acquaintance."

"Oh great," Ryuji groaned, "more about this asshole. Well, there goes my pleasant sleep tonight."

"Sorry if this puts you out of some rest, Sakamoto, but this is very important, trust me."

Akira and Ryuji looked to each other, feeling both confused and apprehensive. Akira sighed and leaned back in the surprisingly comfy seat. "Okay, I'll bite, Sojiro," he said. "What's up with this guy now?"

"One of the main reasons I'm investigating him thoroughly is what." Sojiro paused, his face darkening. This was the first time he appeared to be… uncomfortable to Akira. Little did he know, but Ryuji felt the same way. He had never seen any kind of discomfort from the Boss, and it only unnerved him more. "Hoo boy," he continued, "I wanted to make sure the girls were gone before we discussed this. Didn't need anything else weighing on their minds tonight."

"That's ominous," said Ryuji.

"I know about you guys being followed," Sojiro said, to both young men's surprise. "After my meeting with Nakano-san, I had Iwai and a couple Family men scope out the area around Asylum, and their investigation turned fruitful. Apparently, you guys were seen at the Don Quixote store up the street from Asylum, something about Ryuji here throwing a wad of cash into the air for no good reason."

"To lose the guys that were tailing us," Ryuji corrected with a self-satisfied grin.

Sojiro chuckled to himself. "An old trick, but you can't beat the classics, I guess. Anyway, it caused enough of a stir that people were still talking about it a half hour later, and Iwai just happened to have a talk with the clerk that saw you guys, and the two men that were tailing you."

"What did he say?" asked Akira.

"Iwai just asked for a physical description, nothing more. He paid the store manager for some pictures from the security footage, apparently he and Iwai were already acquainted, and the three of them went looking for the men. That's when I headed back here to let them take care of it."

"Did they find 'em?" asked Ryuji, now seeming fully awake.

"Iwai called me while you kids were getting dinner and told me that, yes, they did find one of them."

"Holy shit," remarked Akira. "How did they find him?"

"Apparently, they followed the angry cries of a young woman and found some rat bastard in sunglasses at night accosting her. Iwai dragged him into an alleyway and started asking questions. Who he was, what he was doing, the usual. Then he got to asking if he knew Kamoshida." Akira and Ryuji leaned forward in their seats. "The guy denied it, of course, which led to Iwai kicking in a couple of his teeth and having his men search all his belongings. They took his wallet, pocketed the obscene amount of cash they found, and then found the real interesting bit." Sojiro paused, his gaze falling to the floor. "A business card, for something called Castle Dungeon Films."

"Yeesh," said Ryuji, "sounds like some god-awful porn company."

"That's what I thought myself, but Iwai had… another theory."

"Ah shit," muttered Akira.

"He told me that he had heard of this company before, but only as an urban legend. He says they're into the real sick shit, the kind that would put their men on death row, or in the chair."

Ryuji was only getting more agitated, angry, and admittedly, frightened as Sojiro spoke. "Fuckin' hell, could that be the reason for the kidnappings?"

"That's our theory. Iwai, uh, detained the suspect and took him to a secure location. Says that it's a little adult entertainment business on the East side and that the man could be held there for the night while the manager… investigates the business card."

Akira shook his head, the thought of what would have happened to them if they had gotten caught was terrifying, unnerving, and anxiety inducing. But amidst all the fear, there was a part of him that wanted to talk to this degenerate for himself. "Can we go tomorrow?" he asked Sojiro.

Ryuji shot up in seat. "You want to go and talk to the guy?!"

"Don't act like you don't, Ryuji," Akira snapped back.

"I mean, hell yeah, I do, but you're just a newbie, only just had your first day!"

"That's true, Ryuji," Sojiro said, "but I agree with Akira. Hell, I was just thinking the same thing."

"Boss!"

"You're serious?" asked Akira.

"I am, I was just going to ask you two if you wanted to go with him tomorrow. It'll be early in the morning to avoid any kind of attention, though. You both gotta be out the door at five a.m. sharp."

Ryuji was about to protest again but held his tongue. It was not like Akira could not help stand up for himself or anything. If he were feeling really honest, he would admit that Akira was about as good a fighter as he was. "Fine," he nodded, "we'll both head down tomorrow morning."

"Of course you will," Sojiro stood to his feet. "Now, on that happy note, get some rest, it's already going on midnight. If you get the jitters either of the night, either of you, just shake it off and be up and dressed by five, got it?"

"How comforting," Akira snided, standing up to stretch his arms. "We got it, Sojiro, five a.m."

"Good." Sojiro stepped back onto the staircase. "Iwai will pick you up, and he won't be late. Just follow his lead and do as he says, those are your only orders."

"Yes, Boss," Ryuji replied.

"Sure," said Akira less respectfully. Sojiro did not reply, his only response being the shutting of his bedroom door. "Well," Akira continued, "guess we're really in it now, huh?"

"I guess so. I've heard about this adult store on the East side, though I've never been there. Sin Bin, I think it's called. Cheesy as all hell, but I hear they live up to their name with the kind of shit they stock. If anyone knows what the hell Castle Dungeon is, it's probably the manager there."

"Sounds charming." Akira stretched his arms again and started walking to his bedroom. "See ya in five hours, I guess."

"Yeah, you too," Ryuji sat down on the couch. "Hey, Akira?" he called after him.

"Wassup?" Akira turned around.

Ryuji paused for a moment before responding. "Keep a cool head, man," he said. "We'll be just fine, really."

Akira did not feel very receptive to such positivity, but he did appreciate the gesture. He nodded and replied, "Yeah, thanks, man. You too. Uh, sleep well."

"Heard that." Ryuji laid down onto his back and closed his eyes, and Akira closed the bedroom door behind him, locking out the rest of the world.

It was then that, amidst the chaotic storm of fear, doubt and anger that was whirling inside his head, he remembered the little box he'd been given by Ma. He went to the side of his bed and picked it up off the floor, still unwrapped and perfectly tied with a bow. The way Ma had described it, he expected it to be a good luck charm or something of that nature, and felt that was exactly what he needed at the moment. He undid the blue bow and opened the lid of the box, revealing a small, jade statue of a Japanese serpentine dragon inside. It was about the size of his palm in width, and the craftsmanship was undeniably excellent. He put the box down and picked up the statue. Examining it, he felt etchings on the underside of it immediately. He turned it over, and in the dim light of his room, could barely make out some Japanese characters. "ドラゴンの心臓 " it read.

"'Heart of the dragon'," Akira read it aloud. Did he know what it meant? No, not at all. Did he have any idea why Ma gave it to him? None all the same. But, there was something special, something elusively alluring about it. It felt royal to him, but also exuded some sort of sentimental value as well. He placed it beside his bed and lay down, for a moment almost forgetting the horrifying implications that awaited him the next day, but whether it be from pure exhaustion, the relaxing warmth of the ramen, or the influence of the gods above transferred through the little dragon statue, sleep soon took Akira into its cool embrace.

His sleep was dreamless, but it was a far better alternative to the nightmares he had anticipated.

[Reviews are always welcome!]


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Interrogation

Neither Ann nor Shiho said anything during the short elevator ride to their floor. The blond girl's hands were in her pockets, twitching and curling in her raw emotional state, while Shiho simply looked on into nothing in a daze. They had both been smiling as they said their goodnights to Akira and Ryuji, but anyone seeing them now would never have guessed at the possibility, given their current disposition.

As the cheesy disco music continued to play over the speaker in the elevator, they suddenly came to a halt and the doors slid open to reveal the long hallway of hotel rooms before the girls. The carpet was a swirling sixties design complete with muted reds, oranges and purples zigzagging up and down the floor bathed in dim orange lighting. It all seemed dated, yes, but the soft hues did offer some semblance of a comforting feeling, at least to Ann.

Shiho continued to walk on as if through a thick fog. Her steps were heavy and uneven, her head bobbing in rhythm. As Ann alternated between checking on her friend and watching the room numbers to find 472, she noticed that Shiho did not even seem to notice her, or the rooms they passed. It truly appeared to Ann that Shiho was in some sort of dream, unconnected from reality. The image brought back strong and painful memories of when they were in high school, the last time Ann had seen her friend make such expressions. It made her stomach church, her fists clench, and her heart pound, as she knew exactly what was going through Shiho's head.

They rounded a corner and saw a woman in a maid outfit exiting one of the rooms. Ann saw the plate with "472" on it next to the door and tapped Shiho's shoulder, causing her to stiffen up and her eyes dart around wildly as if being awoken from a deep and nasty dream.

"Hey," said Ann softly, "we're here."

"Oh…" Shiho trailed off, regaining her composure. "Right, sorry," she stammered.

"Don't apologize. Let's just get in there and relax," replied Ann, leading Shiho on toward the room.

The maid turned around and quickly bowed to the girls. She had long dark hair done up in twin tails next to the hat centered on her head. Her lavish, frilly dress was tacky at best. "Good evening, ladies," she said with a friendly tone whilst bowed, "your room is all ready for your stay. If you have any concerns or needs," she rose her head back up, "please do not hesitate to call—" Shiho, Ann, and the maid's eyes all widened at the sight before each of them. Shiho was stunned speechless, while Ann made some kind of shocked, almost choking sound in her throat.

"K-K-Kawakami!?" Ann exclaimed in total disbelief at the sight of her second-year homeroom teacher, Ms. Sadayo Kawakami.

"Oh my god," the maid muttered. "Oh, dear god."

Shiho pointed at the flustered maid, just starting to regain her voice. "What are you doing here?!" she asked. "How did you end up as a housekeeper in a place like this!?"

Kawakami put her hands on her hips, which were far narrower than her dress would have one believe, and mustered a disapproving expression. "I was about to ask exactly how you two came to be guests here," she said as if that was the only thing strange about the situation. "What was this about an emergency reservation that I had to rush up here for right before my shift ended?"

"Ms. Kawakami," said Ann, "you are a maid! How the hell did you become a maid here!?"

"Keep it down, will you?" Kawakami replied, visibly and audibly growing more annoyed. "There are guests trying to sleep in all these rooms, you know."

"Right, sorry," Ann conceded awkwardly. She rubbed her temple as she tried to compose herself. "Look, Ms. Kawakami, Shiho and I have had a long and hard night, and seeing you here in that… uh, outfit was just, well, not what we expected."

"Yes," Shiho added, "we are very sorry, Ma'am," she bowed.

Kawakami sighed as her gaze fell to the floor. "It's alright girls," she waved her hand. "I'm sorry I got upset, really. It's just that the clientele we serve here are not the kind of crowd I would have expected you two to run with."

"We don't," Ann replied immediately. "A lot happened in the last couple hours and now we're staying here for the night. I'd love to give you the run down and all, but Shiho and I really need some rest." She put her arm through Shiho's, praying to the gods that her attempt to excuse herself as quickly as possible did not appear too rude to Kawakami. "If we need anything, we'll call you right away, okay?"

Kawakami sighed and took hold of her supply cart's handle. She made a sort of sardonic pouting expression before responding. "Fine, just sleep well, girls. I've really got to be getting home anyway." She started to walk past her two former students. She put her hands in her pocket and produced a small black keycard. "Here's the room key," she handed it to Shiho. "Bring it to the front desk before you leave."

"Thank you," said Shiho quickly.

Kawakami then "Just be careful, okay?" she asked quietly as she came up to them. "Try to keep to yourselves while you're here."

"We know," replied Ann. "Trust me." Kawakami nodded and walked on down the hall, rounding a corner and vanishing out of sight. Ann let out a long exhale as Shiho slid the keycard into the slot, opening the room to them. It was lit by two lamps, one by the bed and the other on a table by the large television. The room was far bigger than they had expected, being considerably larger than Ann's own apartment back in Shibuya. To their right as they entered was a bathroom with a large shower and bathtub, and to their left was a small but usable kitchenette. Beyond the entryway was the bedroom. Two queen size beds, a nightstand in between, and a large window with the dark curtains closed at the far end of the room; their luggage was placed in neat, segregated piles in between the farther bed and the desk by the television.

"I can't believe that Ms. Kawakami is working here," Shiho stated as they walked inside. "Talk about a small world."

"Yeah, I about had a heart attack," Ann said as she sat down on the bed nearer to the entrance. "I mean, a lady's got to work, I know, I just would never have expected to see her in a place like this. I really hope she's okay and not paying off some crazy debt or something."

"I thought about that too." Shiho walked past Ann to inspect their luggage, wanting to confirm that nothing had been lost in transit. "She didn't look hurt or anything, but she did seem very tired. I hope they're not overworking her."

"If we get the chance, maybe we should talk to her tomorrow."

"Oh, tomorrow…" Shiho's voice trailed off, arousing Ann's suspicions immediately. She knew that tone all too well.

"What's wrong with tomorrow?" Ann asked her plainly, though already had ideas about what was going through her friend's head.

"I, um," Shiho began shakily, not bringing her gaze to meet the girl she was talking with, "think I will be… leaving tomorrow."

Ann was not surprised at that reply. She shook her head and sighed quietly. "I knew you were gonna say that."

"I'm so sorry!" Shiho whirled around on her feet, looking to Ann with apologetic, pleading eyes beginning to tear up. "I just can't stay here knowing that… that monster is here, probably looking for us! I have family in Osaka I can stay with, and you can come with me too. We can get a taxi in the morning and get out of here, let the police handle this and just… just…"

"Run away," Ann finished darkly. She looked off into space, her gaze cold and steely. Shiho knew that look well, and it only made her more upset.

"You can't possibly be thinking of staying, can you?" she asked frantically. "Do you want revenge or something now, is that it?"

The fear and morose in Shiho's voice now mixed with vehement anger, though Ann thought little of it. Again, she completely expected such a reaction. She had always been the fighter of the two. "Kamoshida is here," Ann began, glowering at the wall, "in this city, right under our noses. All I ever got to do against the man was a weak restraining order, and you know it never left me feeling good about the situation."

"Yes, I know. But it's still ridiculous at the very least, Ann! It looks like Kamoshida is much more dangerous now than he was back then, and you still want to fight him?!"

"Of course I do!" Ann shot back, glaring at her friend. "After everything he did to you, to the students, to me, of course I want to beat the ever living shit out of him, take back everything he ever took from anyone! I've thought about this exact day ever since I walked out of the lawyer's office knowing that I'd hardly hurt him at all with the restraining order, and now I might finally have this chance."

Shiho's own glare grew darker, colder. "And what are you going to do then? March up and down the street until they find you?"

"Of course not. I'm going to talk to the guys tomorrow and see what we can do. If nothing can be done, fine. Fuck it, I'll leave and meet you in Osaka. But if there is something we can do- I can do…" Ann stood to her feet, fists and jaw clenched as if she were keeping herself from exploding, "then I will put every ounce of strength in my body into taking that bastard down."

Ann expected a tongue lashing from Shiho at the very least, but no such response came. Her friend provided on response at all. Ann could not see Shiho's eyes; they were obscured by her hair as she looked to the floor. Ann wondered if she had taken it too far, if she had gotten too intense while her friend felt so vulnerable, and was about to apologize when Shiho finally spoke up.

"And what if you get hurt?" she muttered. "What if they find you? Take you? Are you really able to trust a bunch of yakuza to look after you? How do you know they won't hurt you too?"

"Ryuji was a friend," replied Ann. "Not a close one, but still a friend of mine. I've known him half my life, Shiho. And that Akira, well, we know he's not a yakuza, and he definitely doesn't act like one at all. Sojiro seems trustworthy too but I'll keep my guard up around him. I wouldn't be teaming up with the yakuza, Shiho. I'd be getting help from two nice guys, one of which probably wants to see Kamoshida taken down a few pegs almost as much as I do."

Shiho was about to retort, but as she tried to think of some fitting counterargument, she felt as if her mind instantly became as exhausted as her body. She slowly sat onto the bed, hands laying limply in her lap. Her body felt heavy, her mind foggy and unfocused, and it was all apparent on her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry?" Ann asked in a mix of confusion and concern. "For what?"

"For thinking you're stupid for wanting to fight Kamoshida."

Ann's heart sunk into her gut at her friend's words. Her eyes widened, and stung with new tears. "Stupid?" she barely got out.

"When you said you wanted to fight Kamoshida, I immediately thought it was idiotic, like you had a death wish or something. Probably because that's how I'd f-feel…" her voice caught in her throat as two tears streamed down her face and she began to cry again. Ann bolted from her bed and nearly tackled her friend in a hug, sitting on Shiho's bed next to her as her gasping crying grew. "I'm sorry," she forced out, "I'm just so scared, Ann. I'm too s-scared to want to fight him like you, I just want to run away when you want to stay and fight," she began to cry more intensely, sounding as if she were in physical pain.

"Oh, Shiho," Ann's voice cracked as she began to cry too, holding her friend as tight as she could.

"Not wanting to fight with you makes me feel so weak and stupid, but I just can't!" she sputtered, her tone growing more pained and now even angry. "I can't face him again after what he did! I felt like I was gonna die just from seeing him at the club. I'm sorry, Ann! I just can't do this with you!"

Shiho cried heavily into Ann's chest, while Ann let her tears flow into Shiho's hair. Her friend's confession almost hurt her more than the reality of the situation they were in. "This is just like back then," she whispered to Shiho. "It's just like back in Shujin. And that's why I'm gonna fight him, Shiho." She hugged Shiho even tighter, as if the slightest relaxation would render her lost forever. "So you never have to cry about him again, and so you never have to fight him."

"A… Ann?"

Ann tried to make her voice sound comforting, but the venom the subject brought out from her seeped into her words as well. "I'll take care of him. I'm going to take him down, and get him behind bars, I swear it. For you, me, and everyone else he's hurt. Shiho, I swear to god, it's going to be okay." Shiho's crying stifled for a moment. Ann held her head in her arm and opened her red, stinging eyes. Her gaze was cold, furious, and deadly. She felt it was a good thing Shiho could not see her face, as much as she was ashamed to admit it. "Kamoshida… will not hurt anyone ever again."

A knocking on his door roused Akira from a dream that instantly grew vague in his memory. All he could remember was he was with his parents in a field on a sunny day, and his mother was smiling at him. The knocking continued as his eyelids slowly opened as if weighed down somehow. His body felt stiff as he tried to move it to a sitting position, all his muscles feeling as if they were thawing from being frozen.

"Akira?" came Ryuji's voice from the other side of the door. "We gotta head out soon, man. It's 4:30 already."

It took Akira a moment tor recollect why Ryuji would have woken him at 4:30, and when he remembered he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a sigh. "Ah, shit," he mumbled, his voice deep and groggy. "Yeah, fine," he called back, "I'll just get a quick shower."

"Alright, I already got one. Just—" Ryuji cut himself off with a long yawn, "don't spend too much time prettying yourself up, okay? We can take a good long nap once we're done."

"Wish we could right now," Akira groaned as he stretched his arms. Slowly and shakily, he stood to his feet, grabbed his still relatively clean clothing from yesterday, and made his way to the shower. He kept it cooler than he normally would in the hopes it would help him wake up, but even the cool water cascading down his body did little to rouse his senses. He still felt like he was moving through molasses as he washed his body and hair, only then realizing how insufferably greasy his full black locks had become.

Memories and evaluations of his current life situation tried to creep their way into his mind, but he banished them immediately. He had not the time nor energy for such ruminations.

After drying and dressing himself, and stowing away the knife he'd been given – just in case - Akira found Ryuji waiting in the entryway for him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and toes tapping on the ground in a quick rhythm. He had prominent bags under his eyes; his clothes, wrinkled and dirty looking.

"Did you get any sleep?" asked Akira as he approached him.

"Maybe four hours, I think," Ryuji replied, shaking his head. "I feel like death, but it'll just make the nap this afternoon all the sweeter, I suppose."

"Amen to that, man. Ready to head downstairs?"

"No, but that doesn't really matter, does it?" Ryuji asked with a sardonic fake grin. He pressed the down button on the elevator and rolled his neck, which sounded off with loud cracking noises.

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?" asked Akira with the friendliest grin he could muster whilst feeling as if he was about to fall over.

"I'm not a morning person. I especially hate getting up before the sun. And you better feel thankful for me getting up to shower before you, dude. Maybe it was how tired I was that caused me to be so nice, but you still owe me."

"And how much earlier did you get up?"

"Like, ten minutes," Ryuji shrugged.

"Well," Akira nodded with eyebrows raised, "I am ever so grateful for your sacrifice."

"Damn right you are." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They entered quietly and rode it down even quieter. It was not necessarily that the two young men had nothing to talk about, but moreso that they were too tired for any kind of significant conversation, and small talk sounded like more of a headache than they already had.

Arriving on the main floor, they exited the elevator and walked out onto the street outside LeBlanc. It was 4:52 at the time, and Akira and Ryuji felt a small sense of accomplishment upon getting ready with time to spare. That sense of accomplishment diminished, faded, and disappeared when they saw Iwai leaning against his faded red car on the curbside. He was smoking a cigarette into the chilly early morning air, illuminated by a streetlamp overhead. The scene strongly reminded Akira of a classy, urban chique painting.

"You're both late," Iwai deadpanned after blowing another puff of his smoke from his nose and mouth.

"Bullshit," Ryuji said with marginally more enthusiasm. "Boss said you'd be here at five, we're early."

"He said 'around five', Sakamoto." Iwai threw his cigarette butt into the street behind him. "You should know by now that if you're on time, you're late."

"You know, I would argue against that, but I'm honestly too tired for it. Let's just get going."

"Took the words right out of my mouth kid. Get in, both of you." Without another word, Akira and Ryuji got in the backseat of Iwai's car. It was a mid-range vehicle by the looks of it, not too expensive or flashy. But the full leather seating was more than acceptable to Akira's still aching, stiff muscles. He was worried he would fall back asleep for how surprisingly comfortable it was. "I could've just made you two walk there, you know," Iwai said as he started the car up, the engine roaring and vibrating the car in a way indicating it was a six cylinder. "You should be grateful."

"We are, really," said Akira. "Thank you, Iwai-san."

Iwai chuckled to himself as he put the car on drive and pulled away form the curb. "At least you got manners, kid."

Ryuji rubbed his eyes and sighed disheartedly. "It's too early for this, man."

"Hey, I'm only being nice because he's new. You know that, man."

"Still too early for this shit," Ryuji turned to look out the window.

"Whatever you say, man."

They drove off in silence. The empty streets passed by quickly in a haze, with Akira barely paying attention to any specific details. While only about two minutes had passed before Iwai finally spoke again, Akira felt as if it had perhaps been an hour.

"Did Boss give you two the lowdown on what we're doing?" Iwai asked with a stern tone.

Ryuji cracked his knuckles before responding while Akira was only just noticing that anyone had spoken. "You caught some jackass stalker that was tailing us last night, right? And we're gonna go have a chat with him."

"That's part of it. Did Boss tell you why you two were brought along?"

"Eh, no, not really. He was kind of vague on the details." Akira pulled his gaze from the outside and focused on the other two men in the car with him.

"Sounds like him. He wanted a couple things from you two. One, to get info on why exactly these guys singled out your little group, and if their supposed connections to that Kamoshida guy had anything to do with it. You do have quite a lot of history with the man, I'm told. And two," Iwai paused, putting Akira ever so slightly on edge, "to give you two a bit of field experience."

"Field experience?" asked Ryuji. "I can understand for Akira, but what about me? I've been at this for a year."

"You're muscle, Ryuji. You don't have any interrogation experience, do you?"

"I've given some people the run around before," he replied defensively.

"But you've never interrogated anyone. It's about time you learned, at least that's what Boss thought. Truth be told, I don't really know why he wanted Akira to be a part of this, but hey, it ain't my call."

Akira sighed and lowered his head. "I couldn't tell you," he muttered.

"It isn't my place to know, so that's fine with me." Iwai's agreeableness did nothing to alleviate Akira's concerns. "Hey, we're here," he added suddenly, rousing Ryuji and Akira to attention immediately.

The building they pulled up to was a small brick and mortar store with dirty windows, a wooden door with faded paint and a cracking frame, and a neon side overhead reading "Sin Bin" in tacky, strip club-esque font.

"God, what a dump," Ryuji remarked. "Iwai, why the hell are you cozy with the manager of this dive?"

"I'm not 'cozy' with him. We're acquainted, that's it," Iwai said as he exited the vehicle. Akira and Ryuji got out as well, though the black-haired young man exhibited less confidence than his companions. "Now, I'll do the talking, and you two will keep quiet unless spoken to. If he asks you anything, make your answers brief and vague. And for God's sake, don't touch anything in the displays."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Akira said.

Ryuji put his hands in his pocket as he looked in the heavily tinted window. "This stuff probably isn't my speed anyway."

"If most of this stuff is, then you've got much worse problems to worry about, Sakamoto." Iwai groaned in his throat as he approached the door.

As he slowly pushed it open, Akira's senses were immediately assaulted with a musky, stagnant scent. He grimaced on reflex, and Ryuji noticed. He was about to mock his companion for it when he was gifted with the same scent entering his nostrils and made a similar face, complete with an utterance of "Yech!" that he tried to stifle in case the fabled shop owner heard him. Iwai, however, was completely unphased.

A little bell rang out overhead as Iwai pushed the door open. Slowly, the three men entered the dimly store, immediately treated to more of that disgusting scent. The carpet beneath them was dark, weathered, and stained with many substances all three dared not guess at. Five rows of provocative video tapes and other media were immediately to their right, and on the borders of the rows were large displays of adult toys, posters, and devices Akira could not even harbor a guess as to their nature. He had to admit to himself though, only a few seconds in this establishment proved more educational on the nature of the night then he could have fathomed.

Innocence lost, he finally noticed the counter to their left, and the scrawny, short middle-aged Japanese man slumped over it, snoring loudly.

"That's your guy?" Akira asked, trying to keep his gaze focused on the man and not the instinctively enticing paraphernalia behind him.

Iwai looked as if he had just been asked the color of the sun. "Yeah, that's my guy," he groaned. "Just stand here, I'll take care of it." He took a step forward then looked back at the two younger men with a stern and threatening gaze. "And don't. Touch. Anything." Akira and Ryuji nodded in perfect frightened unison.

Iwai let out a long breath and walked over to the snoring man. He leaned on the counter in front of him and looked down on the man disapprovingly, judgmentally. Iwai tapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to stir and lift his head slowly.

"Ah, the hell?" the man groaned as he opened his eyes. His voice was raspy and high-pitched for a man of his age. Finally getting a good look at his face, Akira noticed it was just as gaunt as the rest of his body. His skin was pale, his eyes dark and his cheeks thin.

This guy doesn't get out in the sun much.

"Hey," Iwai said as he looked down his nose at the man, "we're here."

The shopkeeper rubbed his eyes then glared at the yakuza, trying his best to keep his eyes open lest he immediately fall back asleep. "Yeah, I can see that. Ever heard of knocking, Iwai? It's the new cool thing with the kids, you should try it."

"Your bell rang, and you didn't get up. The fault's on you for sleeping on the job."

"First off," the man wagged a finger at Iwai, "rude. Second, why on god's earth could you not have scheduled this for a more reasonable time, Iwai? I could've just closed shop for a bit in the day or have you come over at night."

Iwai shook his head and wagged his finger, imitating the man. "First off, Slim, we need this info asap. Second, we needed him to marinate over night a bit so he could be a bit more agreeable. Third, we didn't wanna risk anyone coming in and hearing his screams if he woke up during the day. We're saving your ass. You should be grateful."

"Slim" glared up at Iwai, who stood a whole head taller than him. Despite the difference in both height and muscle mass, Slim seemed to be fearless in the face of possible danger from the yakuza. He then past Iwai and studied the two younger yakuza behind him. "And who are these kids?" Slim asked incredulously. "You taking on apprentices now or something?"

"Consider it a field trip," replied Iwai dismissively. "They don't concern you. Now open the door."

"Yeesh, fine." Slim walked out from behind the corner and to the wall in the back of the store, fiddling with a keyring hanging off his pocket as he did. Akira suspected there must have been twenty keys on that thing, jingling together as Slim walked. He then noticed on the wall was a small keyhole amidst the posters of technically not nude women. Slim picked out a small bronze colored key from the bunch on his belt and inserted it into the keyhole. There was a click from the other side of the wall, and it slowly slid backward, revealing a small home theater.

"Holy shit," Ryuji muttered. The theater comprised of four leather seats, a large projector screen in front of them and a powerful, and extremely expensive looking, projector in the back. The room was dimly lit, as if setting a sensual mood Akira had no desire to experience. What then caught Akira's attention was the large metal door at the opposite end of the room.

"We're so in over our heads," Akira whispered to Ryuji.

"Speak for yourself, newbie."

Slim walked over to the metal door and opened it with a separate key, revealing a dark staircase lit only by a hanging lightbulb and a turned off pink neon sign that read "Peep Show" with an arrow pointing down the stairwell. Slim turned around and said, "He's right where you left him, Iwai. Though I doubt he's awake yet. I haven't heard shit, at least."

"That's fine, I can wake him up." Iwai then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a large, heavy roll of yen bills, which must have totaled to at least 500,000 yen, from Akira's perspective. "This will take care of the service cost, and make up for your interrupted sleep schedule."

"Well, I'll certainly sleep better tonight knowing I have such generous associates," Slim said with a grin as he took the wad of money from Iwai. He ran his fingertip along the edge, listening intently to the flipping sound of the bills as if entranced by a symphony. "Take your time with your friend down there. I'm gonna go home and catch up on some sleep, just lock the place up when you're done. As long as you still got the key, that is."

"I got it," Iwai nodded. "And it'll be left under the loose brick by the door when we leave."

"Good man," Slim nodded. He turned around and walked back into the store. "Pleasure doing business with you!" he called back as he slid the wall shut. Akira and Ryuji were now locked in, and the only place to go was down.

"Sooo," Ryuji droned awkwardly, "the guy you caught is knocked out down there or something?"

"We gave him anesthetic to keep him from going ape-shit before we got here. It was some of the good stuff, so he may need a few wake-up slaps. I'll let you two do that part, at least."

"What an honor," said Akira.

The three men walked down the dark stairwell, the musty stench they could smell from outside growing far stronger as they made their way down the dark corridor. Akira coughed in his throat as the stench filled his senses, with Ryuji making a similar gagging noise. Iwai smirked, thinking about how innocent these poor kids were.

A row of three windows with metal shades over them lined the wall as they came down from the stairwell. Two lightbulbs hung overhead, lighting the room in a way most sketchy and questionable. Akira had never seen a fetish porn set before, but were he asked to describe how he would imagine one, the scene before him would have been the perfect starting point. He wondered if he was sinning just by being in the midst of whatever the hell degenerate men did in these places.

"The third one down," Iwai pointed down the hall. "Go in through here." There was another old, rotting wooden door to their immediate right. "Backstage", it read in faded red letters across the top. Akira and Ryuji expected Iwai to lead them, but he instead stepped back and motioned toward the door. "After you," he said nonchalantly.

"Yeesh," Ryuji shrugged, "fine. At least one of us is enjoying this."

Akira rolled his eyes and entered the backstage area. Another long hallway awaited him, with red decorations and lighting adorning the floors and walls. Tip rates were written on the walls in front of the windows, and right next to the rates were many cringeworthy and filthy attempts at flirtatious graffiti encouraging the establishment's patrons to give up more of their wages they had earned for their families.

And then he noticed him. At the end of the hall, tied to an old metal folding chair and slumped over, was the same man Akira and Ryuji had seen last night tailing them. He had been wearing sunglasses the previous night, and in the dark of the room, Akira spied the same black pair on the ground in pieces. "Looks like you already roughed him up a bit," he remarked to Iwai.

"He was a fighter. Not a good one by any stretch, but we still had to lay him out a bit before we could hold him down to pump the anesthetics into him. Rat bastard was kicking and screaming for ten minutes when we brought him back here."

"How'd you get him here in the first place if he was so violent?" Ryuji asked.

"Chloroform, duh."

"Ah, right."

Iwai looked over the body of their captive. The man reeked of sweat and piss, only making the stench of the place worse. The older yakuza gave the man a light tap on the cheek, to which he received no reaction whatsoever. "Out cold," Iwai remarked. "That's no good at all. He can't rat out of his degenerate buddies like this. Ryuji, give him a couple slaps."

"Well," Ryuji rubbed his hands together confidently, "if ya insist, Iwai."

Akira crossed his arms. "Geez, don't be too down about it," he said sarcastically.

"You're just afraid you won't get your chance, man," the blond replied. "Don't worry, I won't be too hard on him so you can hopefully get a couple in."

"Thanks, really," Akira deadpanned.

"No problem, I gotcha." Ryuji stood over the stalker, inspecting him closely before waving his hand in front of his nose. "Whew, this sap's in a bad spot. Probably let it out hours ago."

"How astute of you," Iwai remarked. "Now get on with it."

"I know, I know. Don't gotta be a hardass about it." Ryuji grabbed the man's long, sweaty hair, feeling his fingers get coated in grease and immediately regretting the decision. But hey, he assumed it at least looked cooler. Ryuji then raised his hand high in the air, and in one swift motion, brought it down on the captive's cheek. The slap was fast and hard, sounding off with a loud smack as his hand connected with the man's face, which turned his head sharply to the side before it hung limp again. "Huh," Ryuji said, "that did nothing. And I even bruised his cheek."

"Told you we had the good stuff," Iwai added. "Alright, Kurusu, you're up."

Akira considered replying, but decided against it. No amount of deflective sarcasm or wit was going to get him out of this situation, so he might as well do as he was told without making a fool of himself. The captive groaned deep in his throat, signaling that the anesthesia was starting to wear off. Akira wondered as to what would be the best way to perhaps get Iwai to lay off him getting involved in the inevitable "interrogation", not having any desire to subject this man to any torture the older yakuza was likely planning. If I go all out, maybe he won't push me to any more than this. Then again, it's not like this freak doesn't deserve a punch in the mouth.

In a similar fashion to Ryuji, Akira clenched his fist and raised his hand in the air. As he brought the punch down on the man's cheek, right below his eye, he saw for a brief moment the face of the drunkard who was responsible for the mess he found himself in. He could hear his voice, that of the woman crying out for help; he could smell the thick alcoholic stench of the man's breath, feel his wrathful glare. This memory, combined with the knowledge of what this degenerate bastard did for a living, and what he likely intended to do with the girls, roused a powerful and nightmarish flame inside him much like what he had felt that fateful night.

The sudden memories and thoughts must have had a truly profound effect, for what followed was the sound of bones cracking as the man and the chair he was strapped in toppled to the ground with a crash.

"Holy shit, man!" Ryuji exclaimed from behind him. "Are you trying to kill the guy or something?!"

As Akira took stock of the situation, and only then realized what he had done, he heard Iwai chuckle to himself before he could formulate a response himself. "Not bad, kid," said Iwai. "You've got a pretty good arm on you. Better than I expected from how you look, at least."

"Um, thanks?" Akira replied slowly. His senses still felt hazy, unfocused. It took him a moment to register the captive laying beneath him squirming in his binds and letting out guttural groans.

"Oh, he's finally waking up," Iwai remarked as if telling someone that two plus two equals four. "Not surprised though. A punch like that could have probably woken the dead, Akira."

"I appreciate it," Akira muttered, stepping back to stand beside Ryuji. He felt sick, both in his gut and his conscience. He felt debased, to say the least. He was participating in a yakuza interrogation, after all. Even if he was not to be included in the following events, he was still at the very least implicated in them.

Iwai kneeled beside the captive and took firm hold of the man's hair, lifting his bobbing head off the ground. A trail of drool and blood fell from his mouth as he let out another raspy groan. "Good morning," said Iwai. "How'd you sleep?"

"Nngh," replied the man in a hoarse whisper. "W…Where am I?"

"At a peep show. Remember?"

The captive opened his eyes and looked to Iwai with a face that was far more confused than pained. Akira suspected the drugs must still be dulling his senses, even if he was regaining consciousness. "Oh, uh… Right, peep show. Must have had… a fun night last night, huh?" he made a sickening, bloodsoaked grin that only released more drool and blood from his mouth, running down his chin in thick trails.

"Not exactly, man," Iwai replied as he lifted his seat back up. Now sitting upright, the man's clouded, dull gaze seemed to clear slightly as he took in his surroundings. "You remember why you're here?" Iwai crossed his arms in front of him.

"I… uh… I was out on the town, I think…"

"Go on."

"…I was running a job. The boss told us to… uh, track down a girl? Or… was it two girls?"

"You're on the right track."

"Yeah, yeah… it was two girls."

"At least you can remember that much," Iwai nodded. "Now, do you remember how you got here?"

"I didn't come for the peepshow?"

"Do we look like hookers to you?"

"Not really, no…" Akira was now feeling slightly more confused than anything. "But what are we all doing here then? And, uh… how many of you are there exactly?"

Ryuji scoffed at him. "Did the drugs fry your brain or something, man?"

"Drugs?" asked the man. "God, what did I take last night?" he looked down to his feet, and then his whole body jerked upright. "Wh-What the hell is going on?! Why am I chained up!?" he started struggling against the chains, rocking the seat back and forth until Iwai put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing so tight it caused the cruel sex offender to yelp in pain.

Iwai seemed to look beyond the man's eyes, as if he were a reaper informing a poor soul it was his time. His eyes were wide, their grey hue accentuated in the dim light. A look of terror quickly washed over the captive's face, feeling as if he was staring into the uncaring void. "You don't remember? Really?" His only response was a quivering mumble in the man's throat. "Well then, I'll try to jog your memory." Iwai's hand traveled to the man's hair again and he pushed back on his body till the chair was leaning backward. The captive's long hair caught hard in Iwai's grip as the force of gravity tried to bring the chair crashing down backward, the only thing stopping from doing so was Iwai's perfectly balanced grip. The man screamed as his hair was nearly pulled from his scalp, his body convulsing involuntarily as he tried to escape.

"What is your name?" Iwai demanded of him.

"Augh! Ergh, j-just fuck off, man! Fuck you!"

"Tell me your name, you degenerate bastard!"

"You – You already know that, r-right?! Why are you asking me!?"

"Jogging your memory, like I said." Akira unconsciously took a step back away from Iwai. Ryuji remained completely still. "Now tell me your name!"

"It's – It's Takeo! Takeo Narushu!"

"Well, at least you remember that much!" Iwai thrusted his hand backward, coming as close to letting the chair fall as he could, then pulled it back toward him. As Takeo screamed in pain again and came forward so the seat returned to its original position, Iwai let loose a powerful underhanded jab into Takeo's gut, making the captive spit out more drool and blood, feeling as if his stomach had just been crushed by a brick. He slumped forward in his seat until Iwai pushed his head back to look him in the eyes again.

"Now that you remember your name," he began in a much quieter tone than previously, "tell me who your boss is, and where he's staying."

"Augh," Takeo spit out more fluids, "what do you care? You're yakuza, right? What do you guys care what a bunch of crooks do? We're just the same as you!"

Iwai chuckled low in his throat as he stood to his feet. "You really think that?" he asked. "You don't know anything about us if you think we're remotely on the same level."

"Says the guy who kidnapped me and is holding me in a sex dungeon!" Akira had to admit the man had at least a semblance of a point, at least by his metrics.

"Ah, it would seem that way, huh?" Iwai turned back around to face him. "But there's a couple important differences your worthless degenerate brain didn't pick up on." With nothing in the way of ceremony or buildup, Iwai once again punched his brick of a fist directly into Takeo's ribs, making the man cry out once again, his cries turning to whimpers. Iwai then continued with an ominous tone. "In case you haven't noticed, you're not an innocent young woman, buddy. We're not torturing you for pleasure either. You and your scummy friends are doing unapproved business in an owned town, and we represent the people in charge."

"I guessed that, jackass," Takeo said before spitting a wad of blood into Iwai's face, which he was repayed for with a strong slap across the bruised cheek.

"I'll cut to the chase," Iwai continued, "where's your boss?"

"In bed with your daughter!"

Iwai responded with a left cross this time. "Tell us now, you fuck!"

Takeo sputtered and spat out a couple bloody pieces of teeth. Akira considered trying to get Iwai to lay off a little, even in spite of the hilarious absurdity of the idea, until Takeo looked back up to Iwai with a profusely bleeding Cheshire grin.

"My boss," he growled, "is going to make us all rich, just you wait. He's got big plans for those girls he's marked. And we've done our research. Oh hell yes, we have! They can run anywhere, and we'll find 'em! Anywhere on this god forsaken Earth, and we'll track 'em down and still make the best fucking film in history!"

"You goddamn degenerate," Iwai glowered at him.

"Ha!" Takeo guffawed at him with wild, deranged eyes. "Says the yakuza! You guys have been some of our most valuable customers since the 60's! You got no idea what kind of fucked up shit your lapdogs get up to in dead of night, do ya!?"

"Shut your mouth!" Iwai brought down his fist, bruising Takeo's black eye and rupturing a blood vessel. His response was more crazed, animalistic laughter.

Ryuji put a hand on Akira's shoulder. He noticed that his friend's hand was shaking. "This is insane," Ryuji whispered. "This guy's off the deep end."

"No shit." Iwai brought his knee up into Takeo's chin in an attempt to get him to focus again. Akira could have sworn he heard something crack. "This is making me sick." Akira felt that same inferno within him rise up again as Takeo continued laughing. Iwai obviously was having a similar reaction, as was Ryuji, who looked ready to explode with anger.

"Give up your boss," Iwai demanded, "or I'll make your death half as painful as you deserve!"

Takeo made a guttural sound in throat that was somewhere between a laugh, a choking noise, and regurgitation. "My boss is still in town," he said amidst the broken teeth and bleeding mouth. "He's gonna get the bitches, take them to the shoot, and make fucking art out of them." Akira clenched his fists and jaw. His stomach tightened, his vision became blurry and his heartbeat pounded in his head like a tribal drum. "He'll make 'em beg us to stop! He'll destroy them physically and mentally! He's the king of pain, you fucks! He turns destruction into glorious art! And you kids!" he looked to Akira and Ryuji. "When we're done with them, we'll come after your sisters and mothers, and make paintings out of their blood, decorate your houses in their insides! We'll show you all the glorious art of King Kamoshi-!"

It happened in an instant, so quickly that Akira did not even see the world move. He did not feel his muscles act, his brain did not consciously tell him anything, until he realized his hands were latched around Takeo's bloodstained throat. Akira was shaking him as he strangled him, roaring in his own throat and he put every ounce of strength he had into his arms. He thought he heard Ryuji speak his name from behind him, but all the sound in the world was drowned out by the blood thumping in his ears. After some time, however long it was he could not say for certain, he was pulled back and fell to the ground. Above him stood Iwai, looking down on him with a vacant expression.

Takeo coughed up more blood and bile, trying to get breath back in his lungs. Iwai payed no mind to him, only staring down at Akira's shocked face.

"Leave," he commanded. "Now. You both can walk back."

Ryuji frantically looked between the two while Akira was still trying to process what had happened. Himself maintaining a little composure, he helped Akira to his feet and hurried him down the hall to the backstage entrance. "C'mon, man," he said to him. "This ain't out problem anymore."

"Oh god," Akira whispered as he felt his face going numb. "Oh shit… Oh fuck…"

As they got to the stairwell, Ryuji supporting Akira all the way there, they heard Takeo and Iwai arguing over something, but Akira could not make it out for the life of him.

He then heard one last long, demented laugh. Then a gunshot. Then eerie, painful silence.

The next thing Akira noticed, he was sitting on the floor in the Sin Bin. His breathing, ragged. His clothes, messed up and spattered with blood. Next he realized he was standing over a trashcan that was now filled with his vomit. His mind was a maelstrom of images, feelings, memories from the past ten minutes. Then, for some reason, he thought of his mom serving him his favorite dinner dish.

And then he saw Ann. He saw her tearful, thankful smile from the previous night. It was as bright as the sun now peaking over the horizon.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**Sunset Bridge**

Ryuji curled his nose at the rising scent of vomit in the room. He was leaning against the wall across from Akira, who was sitting against the main counter of the _Sin Bin_ , legs sprawled out in front of him, arms laying limply beside him. Akira was dazed, pale, and staring blankly into space while Ryuji contemplated the best way to tackle this new situation.

It had been only five minutes since they got back up from the basement of the _Sin Bin_ , the clock on the wall ticking away at every passing second. Akira had been silent as the grave since he had finished vomiting, and proceeded to nearly pass out after that. Ryuji felt in part embarrassed for his friend's behavior, being completely unbefitting of a yakuza at the very least, but moreso he was surprised at Akira's violent display in the basement. The image of those wild, vicious eyes that normally were appeared calm and reserved played in his mind over and over. He even could have sword he had heard Akira snarl in the moment. Whatever had happened, it had thoroughly rattled his friend, with Akira looking more and more like a corpse by the second.

"Hey," Ryuji spoke up, "you still with me, man?"

Akira slowly tilted his head to look at him. A line of drool ran down his chin as his jaw was slightly slack. "I'm alive, if that's what you're asking," he groaned.

"At least you can still make jokes, and that you're still in the world of the living, despite looking like a corpse. You've been giving me the thousand-yard stare for five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Akira asked. "Is that how long we've been here? I thought it was at least thirty."

"Geez, you really did get messed up," remarked Ryuji. "How are you feeling?"

Akira rubbed his eyes until he saw spots. "Probably about half as good as I look."

"Well then, we should probably get you to a doctor if that's how you feel. I actually know someone we could go to who wouldn't try to arrest us."

Akira let out a light attempt at a laugh that immediately made his horribly upset stomach churn again. He covered his mouth to stifle the feeling of more vomit rising in his gullet. After letting out more hoarse coughs for a moment, Akira nodded awkwardly. "Whoever this doc is, I hope to God he's in today. Because I feel like what I imagine a horrible hangover would feel like."

Ryuji looked at Akira scrupulously, noticing a strangely entertaining smirk creep to the young man's face. "Hey, uh, Akira?" he asked. "You don't have, like, amnesia, do ya?"

"Huh, what?" Akira replied in an innocent, almost dumb tone that matched his facial expression well.

"It's just that… I didn't expect you to be making so many jokes after what just happened."

Akira's gaunt, pale face stiffened at Ryuji's allusion to their interrogation. His whole body jolted as if he had received a small electrical shock, with his eyes shooting wide open, staring into the ceiling. Ryuji wondered for a brief moment if the guy was experiencing a seizure. " _Oh_ ," Akira said slowly, "that… yeah…"

Ryuji facepalmed himself and shook his head. "God, I need to get you to the doc fast. I hope Iwai is about done wrapping things up."

"What do you think he's been doing down there?"

The blond man was visibly surprised by his companion's very matter of fact question. "Well, what would you expect him to be doing, man? He's getting rid of the body."

Akira hung his head low, trying to dispel the migraine pounding in his skull and ears. "I… I thought I heard a gunshot as you took me back up here. I didn't know if it was real though, everything seems so hazy at that point."

"Oh, it was real, alright. Iwai and that perp got in some kinda argument; I didn't hear much of it. Then the guy laughed maniacally, and bam! No more arguing, no more laughter."

"Good god," Akira groaned. "Does that make us, like, accomplices to murder?"

"Only if you get caught, which we won't. And besides, you know what kinda shit that guy was into, is it really gonna weigh on your conscience that much? You tried to throttle the guy yourself, you know."

"I know, I know," Akira nodded. "And I still feel awful for it."

"Well, we didn't stop you because we wanted to play nice with the guy or anything like that. We just didn't want you to crush his vocal chords before we could get all the info out of him. Trust me, you're fine. You're not in trouble or anything." Ryuji rubbed his temple and sighed. "Maybe this was too much for ya on your second day. I have no idea why Boss really wanted you out here with us. You should just be collecting debts from drunks right now, not interrogating a perverted sadist."

"Trust me, I'm no happier about it than you are, and probably just as embarrassed about it."

"Embarrassed? You think we're embarrassed by you?"

"Well, aren't you?" Akira's cold glare and biting tone at least indicated he was coming out of his stupor.

Ryuji shook his head. "No, we're not. You were caught up in a shitty situation and your instincts took over. Happens to most of us, trust me. It's just something you'll have to get trained out of you so you don't mess up any big jobs."

"Training, huh?" Akira asked plainly. "That's what all this is, right? Training, to make me more like the rest of you."

"Now, don't give me that tone, man."

"You don't have any idea what this is like," Akira pointed at him judgingly. "This is your first interrogation too, right? At least you had, what? A year of practice in the yakuza beforehand? This is nothing like that for me—"

"Hey," came Iwai's voice from their side. He was leaning in the doorway to the theater they had passed through to get to the basement, arms crossed and face expressionless. _I really hope he didn't hear any of that,_ Akira thought. "I'm still gonna be a while with this, so why don't you two get out of here. Don't want anyone to see you loitering around the store and get curious. Get on back to LeBlanc for a while, okay? It's a short walk so you won't need the car. Consider it some morning exercise."

"You sure, Iwai?" Ryuji asked, ignoring the possibility of their argument having been overheard. "We can help ya with anything if you need it."

"No, I got this, kid. It's okay. Now haul ass out of here. I'll get the Boss caught up on everything then he'll decide the best course of action to take with this mess. Expect another meeting with him this evening."

"Yeah," Ryuji nodded as he stood to his feet, "you got it."

Akira stood up in turn on shaky legs, almost falling back over but barely keeping his balance. "See you, Iwai," Akira waved to him as they walked to the door. He knew better than to ask any more questions. With that, Munehisa Iwai disappeared once again down the stairs. Akira shuddered at the thought of what he may be doing down there.

"Well," Ryuji droned awkwardly, "I guess we're off the hook now, huh? You know what that means, man?"

"Breakfast?" Akira asked. "I threw up all my dinner so I'm kinda running on empty right now."

"Well, I was referring to a long-ass nap, but you do you, dude. But how are you already hungry, Akira? You looked like a freakin' zombie just a minute ago!"

"I guess I came back from the dead," Akira shrugged as if nothing about this whole situation was abnormal. "C'mon, let's make like Iwai said and haul ass."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's roll."

In mostly silence, and Akira stumbling much of the way back to the hotel, they walked on down the quiet, desolate streets of Kamurocho. They spied some homeless men sleeping on park benches along the way and no more than three cars passed them the whole way back. It was as if Akira had found himself in some mirror world, where the legendary entertainment hub of Kamurocho was a deserted ghost town.

Coming up on LeBlanc, Ryuji finally spoke up. "Hey, you need me to call the doc, Akira? You're looking a lot better, so if you wanna just get some rest, that's cool.

"Yeah, I think that's best, but thanks for asking. If I need anything, I'll get a hold of you."

"Well, if that's what you feel like…" Ryuji let out a long yawn, stretching his arms over his head. "I think I'm gonna head on back to my place and crash for a while. It's not far so it's no big deal. You just get some food in you and hit the hay, okay?"

"Yeah, you can say that again," Akira nodded. "Take care of yourself, man. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, seems like it," Ryuji replied in a grim tone. "Just don't let it get in your head, Akira. Keep cool, okay," he said as he turned around on his heel. Ryuji waved goodbye as he walked away, and Akira entered the hotel.

As he let a long yawn, Akira pushed the doors open and walked inside. Soft piano music played trough the speakers in the ceiling. A receptionist stretched his arms as he stood behind the counter. Akira wen to the elevator and rode it back up to the penthouse. When he arrived, he considered raiding the fridge for much needed sustenance, but his leg muscles screamed at him for relief, and he sat down heavily on the same couch Ryuji had slept on the night before. He felt immediately awash with relief. So much so that it took him a moment to realize the phone had started ringing.

Akira's eyes shot open at the ringing. He rubbed his eyes hard and groaned. "Who the hell is calling here at six in the morning?" he asked the empty room, until he noticed the sunlight pouring through the window. "Oh," he deadpanned, realizing he had fallen asleep without noticing. The phone continued to ring and, whether it was due to his exhaustion or desire for peace and quiet, he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Oh, Akira?" came the voice of Ann.

"Ann? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry for calling so early, I didn't wanna, like, barge in and wake you if you were still asleep," she chuckled. "That would have been kind of awkward."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Akira smiled slightly. _At least she can still make jokes after everything that's happened._ "So, what's up, Ann? Everything okay?"

There was a long and concerning silence before Akira received a response. "Um, I was actually calling about that. Are you and Ryuji doing anything right now?"

"Well, Ryuji is back at place, and probably still asleep, so he's not in right now."

"Oh, I thought he was sleeping over."

_Dammit!_ "Oh, uh," Akira sputtered, "he just left! Yeah, he woke up early, got some breakfast and headed back home just a bit ago."

"Well, then why do you think he's back in bed? Is he sick or something?"

"Oh yeah, he's feeling a bit under the weather! Might have been something he ate, I'm not quite sure, honestly – Anyway! What did you and Shiho need us for?"

Ann's response started with a gasp and a pause. "Sh-Shiho is what I wanted to talk about, actually. Could you meet me in the lobby, Akira? I, um, haven't had any breakfast yet and don't feel safe going out on my own."

Akira did notice that Ann never said Shiho would be joining them. He caught himself before he asked as to why. "Alright, I'll be down in a few. I could use some breakfast too."

"Thank you, Akira," her voice was quivering, weak and in a near whisper. "I'll be down in ten."

"Take your time, it's okay."

Akira changed out of his clothes and into something more casual looking. He wore a black unbuttoned shirt over a gray tee and jeans, trying his best to not look like an imposing yakuza. He was surprised to find he missed the feeling of just being a normal young adult, even though it had only been a couple days since then. Looking in the bathroom mirror after he changed felt like the first time in two days he actually recognized himself. Especially after the events of that morning, it felt refreshing, calming. He could at least pretend he was still a normal guy for a little while.

He was waiting by the entrance six minutes after the phone call, and it would be another ten before Ann joined him. She wore clothing just as casual as himself: a maroon camo tank top, form-fitting denim shorts and a purse hanging from her shoulder. She also looked about as exhausted as he had when he woke up that morning.

"Hey," she said as she approached, though it sounded more like a sigh.

"Good morning," Akira nodded. "So, Shiho won't be joining us, huh? She taking it easy this morning?"

Ann diverted her gaze from him. "Well, no, not exactly. But hey, it's a nice morning out right now. You wouldn't happen to know any spots around here with outdoor seating, would you?"

"I actually don't," Akira shook his head. "But gimme just a sec. I'll ask." After inquiring to the receptionist as to if there were any cafes without outside seating in the area, Akira was pointed toward either a maid café that was opening for brunch, or a small, cozy mom-and-pop diner two streets down. He chose the latter, which was much more to Ann's liking as well.

The morning air was warm with a light breeze, blowing Ann's hair back gently in the bright sunlight. Akira noticed the glances they got from passersby and shop owners, obviously taking them for a couple. But he brushed off those thoughts as quickly as they came to him. When they came to the café, a small but inviting brick and mortar restaurant and shop called "June's", they were greeted by a hostess with a bubbly smile and friendly handwave.

"Welcome to June's!" she said as Akira held the door open for Ann. "Table for two?"

"Yes, thank you," Akira replied. "Will there be a wait?"

The hostess smiled brightly and shook her head. "Not at all, please come with me."

"Well, that's fortunate," Ann remarked.

They followed the hostess into the main dining area, and Akira was surprised to see only a few tables being taken. The decorum was low key and simple, with the chairs sporting soft cushions and the tables all covered in off white tablecloths. They were then led to the back of the dining area and outside, where the hostess guided them to a small table with two chairs sitting opposite each other. A redbird was sitting on the railing next to them, basking in the sunlight.

"Please take a moment to look over the menus," said the hostess. "Your server will be with you momentarily," she bowed.

"Thank you very much," Ann replied. "I'm actually surprised we got seated so quickly," she said to the hostess as she seated herself. "I'd expect a place this nice would be bustling at breakfast time."

"Oh, we will be, definitely! Give it about twenty minutes and the brunch rush will be rolling in. You two came at just the right time. Now, please enjoy your time with us." The hostess bowed once again and left, leaving Akira and Ann alone.

Trying to make small talk and break the ice a bit, Akira said, "I'm glad that the receptionist suggested this spot. It's actually really nice."

"Yeah, me too!" Ann smiled brightly. "I was worried we'd have to settle for Big Bang Burger or something, but this place seems wonderful! I mean, Big Bang's got good burgers and all, but I am _not_ a fan of their breakfast food. I honestly don't even know why they serve it."

"Probably to give people on their way to work in the morning an extra chance to get some food or caffeine when they're desperate. But some real breakfast food sounds a bit easier on my stomach." Akira picked up the menu and immediately had to do bite his tongue so as not to yelp at the sight of the prices. Unbeknownst to him, Ann had the exact same reaction.

" _Mmm,_ " Ann crooned, "these crepes sound _delicious!_ I'm definitely gonna have to get one with strawberries and whipped cream! It's been way too long since I've gotten to sit down and enjoy a nice breakfast like this, I've just been way too busy."

"My parents made some pancakes with fruit about a week ago. They're both great cooks, and that's been a mainstay of theirs since I was a little kid."

"Wait, for real?" Ann looked up from the menu. "Man, I'm a bit jealous."

"What for? Didn't your parents ever make you nice breakfasts?"

"Once in a blue moon, yeah. They were so busy with their work that they were hardly ever home. It was mostly the caretakers that made my breakfast, or I'd just grab some on the way to school at Moonbucks or something."

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry I asked."

"No, no, it's fine. It is what it is."

Ann put her elbows on the table and held her chin in her hand. She looked out into the street, taking in the sight of the people walking by, the cars driving past. The sun caught in her blond hair and her sapphire eyes glistened. Both young adults felt strangely… calm.

" _Gooood_ mornin'!" came a young male voice from their side. Taking out a notepad and pencil was a young man about their age, a dorky but endearing smile painted across his face, with shaggy, thick brown hair adorning his head. "My name is Yosuke and I'll be your server this fine morning. Now, can I start you off with something to drink? Coffee maybe?"

Ann raised her hand politely. "I'll actually take some red grapefruit juice, please."

"Ah, a great choice!" Yosuke replied enthusiastically. "It's freshly made every morning, and our stock is perfectly in season right now. Now," he turned to Akira, "what would you like to drink, sir?"

"I'll have some orange juice, please."

"Of course, I'll bring it out in just a moment and I can take your entre orders. Thank you very much." Yosuke bowed and left.

"Well," said Akira, "he's very pleasant."

"Everyone seems that way here. It's actually pretty relaxing when everyone is just… polite."

"Reminds me of the small town I'm from. Most of the town knew each other at least a bit, so everyone was always pleasant and polite. I remember being a kid and often getting some free candy when my mom took me to the convenience store. The lady that ran it would almost always hand me a gobstopper when she checked us out."

"That sounds like such a nice place to live! Way nicer than Shibuya. I'm a city girl, always have been. But on the rare chance I get to do a shoot out in the country, it's always my favorite. One time I got to a magazine shoot on an American looking pier out in the boonies, but God, it was gorgeous. I could spend hours just listening to the waves roll on the sand while eating shaved ice."

"I used to do that all the time as a kid," Akira added, completely oblivious to the smile on his face. "There's a pier on the river by my place. My parents would take me there almost every night in the summer to play at the arcade, get some ice cream, and walk on the beach. They always lit up the boardwalk with lanterns at night… Man, makes me feel nostalgic just talking about it."

"Hey, it practically makes _me_ nostalgic and I never even experienced it! It sounds just perfect." Ann was smiling widely, and Akira felt a sense of accomplishment that she was able to make that happen in the midst of whatever was going on with her.

Yosuke then came back with their drinks, and they then order their food. Akira got himself a cheese omelet with peppers and ham, while Ann got herself the crepes she had been salivating for the whole time they had been seated. While Akira preferred far more to continue their gentle, relaxing stroll down memory lane, he figured now might be the best time to ask after what had been going on with Shiho. His tongue immediately felt like lead upon making the decision, but he feared he would only get distracted again were he to prolong things.

"Hey, Ann?"

"What's up?" she said before taking a sip of her grapefruit juice.

"Well, are you and Shiho, like, okay? I mean, she's obviously not here with us, so, did something happen between you two?"

Ann's bright smile immediately darkened at the question. She looked back off into the distance wistfully, seeming detached from the goings on around her. "Yeah, kind of," she replied slowly. "We made up though, it was just a little spat. A… difference of opinion, I guess."

"I take it that's not the reason she's not here."

"No, it really isn't." Ann's gaze was locked on the bustling street beside them. Soft jazz music played through the sound system inside June's, just loud enough to be perceived by them. The girl's expression was… dull, neutral, lost. "You can probably guess it's about Kamoshida, right?"

"I figured that had something to do with it. You know, if you're not comfortable discussing it, it's okay. We can just talk more about the sea," he smiled.

Ann chuckled at that; a light and weak laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "I was actually talking so much about it to distract me from everything going on. I guess it worked for a little bit."

"I guess so," Akira nodded. "It was… nice to talk about though. Well, once we get all this business out of the way, we can talk more about my family going to the pier. Deal?"

Ann chuckled again, coming out more like a jovial girlish giggle. "Deal," she replied. But her smile faded just as quickly as it had come. She looked down to her feet as a breeze caught her hair and whisked it back away from her face. "I'm… now sure how to start this off right," she said.

"I think you can just, you know, _start_ it. There's no right way to talk about this stuff, I think."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I guess it's just hard to talk about, especially to say how I feel about it."

"Then why don't we just start with what happened?"

"Yeah, you're right. That'd be way easier." Ann inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. "Shiho and I got in a fight last night," she began. "The main part of this whole thing is that Shiho wanted to leave Kamurocho. Seeing Kamoshida here really messed her up, so naturally she didn't want to be here another moment knowing that he is prowling about."

"That's a whole lot of past tense, Ann."

"Oh," she said sheepishly. "I didn't even notice."

"It's okay."

"No," she looked at him with the slightest hint of a glare. "No, it really isn't."

"Sorry for the wait!" came the voice of Yosuke once again as he came by, holding two lightly steaming platters of delicious food. He laid them down before Akira and Ann, who's eyes lit up at the sight of her death-by-sugar looking crepes. Yosuke politely excused himself and the two began to dig in.

" _Mmmmh Gaaawd!"_ Ann crooned amidst her first bite. "It just falls apart in my mouth! Oh, and the fruit is divine! Thank you so much for taking me here, Akira!"

"Hey, my pleasure." He then took a bite of his omelet, and while he was not as outwardly vocal in his response to the culinary art piece, internally he was practically singing its praises. "Man, this really is good," he said with far less enthusiasm than he felt. "I'm glad the concierge recommended it."

"You have no idea how glad I am! These crepes are _to die_ for!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself so much," Akira smiled as he took another bite of the omelet. "Not to rain on your parade, but, um… Shiho…"

Ann paused, fork in mouth before responding. "Oh yeah, Shiho…" Ann put her fork on her plate and took another sip of her drink. She drank for a long moment, eyes closed as she did. Placing the cup on the table, she continued. "You said I was speaking entirely in past tense. Well," she paused again, a quiver creeping its way into her voice, "Shiho left this morning."

Akira instantly forgot about the golden delicacies that lay before both of them. "She left? Really? Where did she go?"

"She's got family in Osaka, so she took a taxi there to stay with them for a bit. That's… why we had our fight. She was completely determined to get out of here, like I said. She even yelled at me when I said I didn't think that was the right choice."

"Why did you say that? Why didn't you go with her?"

Ann paused again, slowly taking a tiny bite of the crepe she had just been enamored with. Her appetite was rapidly dissipating. "You remember last night when I said I was hoping we'd get caught by those creeps? And I said that, well, I wanted to fight them. To show them I'm not just some helpless victim."

"I remember. I was surprised by it, but I honestly had a lot of respect for you when you said that."

"Well, thank, I guess," she replied awkwardly. "Shiho definitely didn't though. She kind of flipped her lid for a bit when I brought up that I wanted to stay, and to fight."

Akira leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. _This is getting complicated._ "You want to take on Kamoshida? I mean, I get why you would, but are you sure that's the right thing to do? What about Shiho?"

Ann's determined glare softened, melted at that. "I… I do, but…" She lowered her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "Shiho said she was jealous of me," she muttered. "She was jealous of my strength, and that was a large part of why she was so mad." While Ann was obviously on the verge of tears, a small laugh somehow made its way up her throat. "Strength, huh? She thought I was _strong,_ and that she was _weak._ All because she didn't want to stay and fight. And it's all Kamoshida's fault. We wouldn't be like this if not for him."

"And you want justice. I'm sure you both do, but if it's too much for Shiho to handle, I can totally see that."

"That's basically how it was. She just couldn't handle it, and was jealous that I could. But now…" Her voice trailed off. She breathed in sharply, her voice caught in her throat. "Now I don't know if that's really true…"

Ann put her face and hands and began to quietly cry to herself. Akira felt as if his heart fell through his chest and down to his feet. "Hey, hey," he said in a comforting tone. "It's okay, really. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"B-But I need to," Ann replied through the sobs. "I stayed so I could make sure Kamoshida would never hurt us or anyone else ever again, but now… Now I'm _terrified_. I have no idea what to do or where to start. I need to do _something_ though! I can't opt out now, after all Shiho and I have been through, how much she expects of me! I can't give up—" Her voice caught again and she stifled a sob. "God, this is so embarrassing," she said. "I'm crying _in public._ It probably looks as bad for you as it does for me."

"No, Ann, it's okay," Akira reassured her. "I can hardly imagine what you're going through."

Ann nodded slowly, like the simple action took all the strength in her body to accomplish. "Heh, you're not exactly on cloud nine either right now though, are you?"

"No, but it's nothing like you, I'll bet."

"Maybe… but I don't think that really matters." She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "Akira, this is probably a totally inappropriate question to ask, since we only just met, but… what do you think I should do? Should I just leave town with my tail between my legs?"

_Well, if she wants to fight Kamoshida, it looks like Sakura is going to go after him really soon. I wonder how he would react if we got a civilian involved. Probably flip out and cut off my finger or something. But still, this is her problem way more than it is any of the yakuza. I could tell her about what happened this morning, but it might upset her more… Dammit, this is getting so complicated._ Akira rubbed his eyes as he mulled over what to do next. _I'm too tired for this stuff_ , he thought.

"I don't want to run away," said Ann, "but I don't even know where to start with this. You and Ryuji seemed to be working on something related to Kamoshida. Were you two gonna go after him?"

Akira raised an eyebrow at her, Ann's perception of the situation surprising her. "You're pretty sharp, Ann, I'll give you that."

"So you are going after him?"

"I don't know, honestly. But there is stuff going on I can't really get into specifics about. We're actually having a meeting tonight to discuss what to do next."

"Then you have to take me," Ann interjected immediately. "I can figure out what to do next, and then we can take that bastard down."

"We? You're gonna join us?"

"Of course, I am! I'm going to show not just Shiho, but _everyone_ that I'm not just some weakling victim. And if I need some help to that, then fine. But nothing is going to stop me from getting back at him." She then very angrily took another bite of her crepe, swallowing it quickly and repeating the process. A smear of strawberry syrup accumulated below her lips, but she seemed not to notice.

Akira sighed at this turn of events. "I can try to get you in, I guess. I agree you should at least have a chance at bringing justice to him. Well then, I guess we all have left to do is wait until this evening."

"At least you're reasonable," Ann mumbled, her mouth full of delicious crepe. "I've waited almost three years already for this, I can wait a few more hours."

"Alright," Akira nodded. "And Ann?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think Shiho would ever think you're weak."

Ann's eyes widened at that, causing Akira to think he may have said too much, gotten to personal. He was about to sputter out an apology when Ann spoke. "Oh… thank you, Akira."

"Uh, don't mention it." _Oh, thank god_. "I'm just being honest. You and Shiho seemed very close. I'm sure she was just overwhelmed with everything going on."

"Yeah, me too," Ann nodded. "It was scary, and hurtful when she got so mad, but I forgave her instantly. She seemed to do the same for me."

"I'm sure she did." Akira gave her a small smile, which she followed suit with in turn.

"You're a good guy, Akira," said Ann. "Thank you."

"For the crepes?" he joked, causing her to laugh.

"Well, yes, that. But I meant for… everything, you know? Just, thanks for everything."

"Like I said, don't mention it," he smiled again. "Well, let's do something a bit less stressful and finish off this food, huh? I think we both could use it."

"Oh, absolutely!" Ann took an enthusiastic bite of her crepe, and then another, and washed it down with the grapefruit juice. Her demeanor seemed to have changed in an instant, and Akira felt happy for her. She really did have a beautiful smile. "Hey, you better dig in too, okay? I'll feel fat if I'm the only one eating."

"I really think you don't have to worry about that, but alright."

They ate slowly, savoring the taste of their food. The sun only grew warmer, the breeze cooling them off perfectly. The sky above was a vibrant, deep blue with a few clouds scattered about. In spite of everything that had happened, Akira felt he at least could relax for a moment now. He and Ann made more polite conversation about the beach back in his hometown, and though it made him feel a bit homesick, it did bring a constant smile to his face.

It turned out to be a nice morning.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**The Crossroads**

Having woken up in a complete daze from one of the hardest naps of his life, Ryuji set about sating his growling stomach with a heavy dish of makeshift curry. He was far from a cook by any means, but he had learned to make simple dishes after getting kicked out of his home. When he eventually got tired of ramen packets and cutting his fingers while trying to prepare some vegetables, he went out, using some of his first payout as a yakuza to purchase a beginner's cookbook that still sat on the bookshelf in his modest apartment. When the platter of curry was done, Ryuji sat in the chair in front of his television and turned it on to the local news.

While not being a fan of the news, having gained perspective on just how much the corporations like to bend and twist the truth of most events to either keep the public from panicking or to achieve higher ratings, Ryuji did try to keep in touch with how the public viewed the world around them. When he turned the TV on, it started with just a discussion about how the stock markets were on the rise yet again, and how Japanese businesses were experiencing greater returns and security than any other point in the decade thus far. Ryuji took a large bite of curry while only half-listening to the man ramble about financial concepts he did not fully understand nor care about.

Ryuji was about to take another bite when the show shifted to another reporter who, to his substantial surprise, was discussing the disappearance of a twenty-three year old woman from Shibuya named Aiko Kamichi. "Kamichi-san was last seen in the entertainment avenue of Kamurocho," said the newscaster. "It is heavily advised to exercise heightened caution when in that area at night, and to always travel in groups."

"That must be the girl Nakano was talking about," Ryuji muttered. "Guess the police are finally wising up to all the shit going on. Iwai, you better have gotten some good info from that guy before you offed him, 'cause I get the feeling we're on the clock."

Meanwhile, Akira and Ann were slowly making their way back to LeBlanc, with the slowness being due to Ann consistently getting "distracted" by the shops on their way back. She soon got so "distracted" that they were about two blocks off their original route. While Akira was aware of the dire circumstances they found themselves in, being at the risk of being jumped by Kamoshida's goons at any moment, he had to admit that simply walking around Kamurocho in the warm morning air, taking in the sights as they came, was both pleasant and relaxing.

When coming upon a small makeup store, Ann darted inside and began inspecting the many different shades of red lipstick on display. To Akira, they appeared to be all functionally the same color, but Ann's knowing, inquisitive evaluation of each stick portrayed an entirely different perspective. She would hold whichever lipstick that caught her eye up in the light like an archaeologist inspecting a delicate artifact. "Which do you prefer, Akira?" she said as she turned around to face him. Ann held two red lipsticks in her hands, her eyes darting between them and Akira excitedly. "Do you like the more subtle maroon one?" she held up her left hand. "Or this sensual, vibrant crimson?" she held up the one on the right. "They're both really pretty and on sale! But I'd feel guilty if I bought both. Which do you think would look better on me?"

"You want my opinion?" Akira asked.

"Well, yeah, duh," Ann smiled. "I don't have Shiho with me right now, so you'll have to do. Now, which one would compliment me best?"

Akira raised an eyebrow, scanning the two lipsticks. He tried to imagine Ann wearing the different shades, but the mental images he conjured were identical in his mind's eye. "Um," he said, "the one on the right."

Ann perked up in an instant. "Are you sure?"

"Decisively," Akira replied plainly.

Ann looked at the crimson lipstick again and nodded. "I had a gut feeling about this one when I saw it. Guess I was right!" she beamed. "Come on, let's pay and get going."

Akira nodded with a pleasant smile, then let out a sigh of relief when Ann's back was turned. Ann made paid at the cash register and they walked back out onto the streets, now filled with people going about their mornings. Akira stretched his arms over his head and repressed a yawn. "So," he asked, "where to next? Back to LeBlanc?"

Ann shook her head as she looked down the street. "I'm not sure. I don't really want to just go back and sit around all day. I much prefer stress shopping over that. But, if I did just go stress shopping as much as I feel like right now, I don't think I'd have any money left over for dinner," she chuckled awkwardly. "But I would probably have a fabulous new wardrobe, at least."

"I'm sure that would be worth it, right?" Akira smiled.

"Absolutely _not!_ Looking gorgeous is great and all, but not being able to have a nice big dinner? That sounds like torture that even stress shopping couldn't help."

Akira laughed lightly, putting his hands on his waist. "You're something else, Takamaki, you know that?"

"Is that a good thing?"

"It is. I mean, I don't know any fashion models myself, but I'd expect most of them to be super conscious about their diets, workout routines, that sort of stuff. But you seem way easier going than that."

"Most models are like that," Ann replied. "In fact, I'm the only one I've met who isn't. I guess I've just got good genes, since I can enjoy all the scrumptious food I want and never have to worry about any of that much. Of course I work out frequently, especially during peak season, but that's mostly to keep my core toned. It does have other benefits though." Ann held up her arm and flexed her bicep with a confident smirk. Her arms were small, but not dainty, sporting a fair bit of muscle, especially for a woman of her lean body type.

"Impressive," Akira stroked his chin with a smile. "Most impressive."

"I know, right!?" Ann said excitedly. "I was doing tons of shoots over the summer, so I was working out a lot more than usual. It really helped get my strength up. So," Ann pointed her finger directly into Akira's face, catching him by surprise, "if you ever need another ally of justice at your side, you can be sure I'm not just some dainty princess!" Ann then made a thumbs-up toward herself with an even more confident smirk. "I can roll with the best and fight with the worst, and that's a promise!"

"Consider me convinced," Akira held his hands up as if surrendering. "Just please don't hurt me," he joked.

Ann paused for a brief moment, then broke out into a laugh. "Look at that!" she said while trying to regain her composure. "The big, bad yakuza hero is scared of little ol' me! Ha! If I can freak out a yakuza, then I can't wait to see Kamoshida's reaction!"

"I'm sure he'll be quaking in his boots at the sight of you," Akira replied. "Probably already was when you confronted him at the club."

"You're right!" Ann crossed her arms in front of herself. "He ran away like the coward he is. And he got off easy that time."

"Man, remind me to never piss you off."

"Hey, I may be lionhearted, but I'm not mean, you know. I just stand up for myself, unlike most girls." Ann's proud visage waned almost imperceptibly for a moment, but Akira still took notice of it.

"Well," he spoke up, "I'm sure Shiho really likes that about you."

Ann looked at him with a puzzled gaze. "You really think so, huh? You said something like that at June's."

"Because I do think so," Akira nodded. He turned on his heel and started walking down the street, with Ann following at his side. "In spite of anything that happened last night, I'm sure Shiho is proud to be your friend. The way you two were acting together when we were hanging out, even after the run-in with Kamoshida, seems pretty clear that you two have got a bond too strong to be broken by just one argument. You two just deal with things differently, and that doesn't put either of you in the wrong."

Ann did not reply immediately, making Akira's gut tighten at the thought of potentially overstepping his boundaries. "You know, Akira?" Ann asked. "You're pretty good at reading people. It's actually really cool."

"Oh, well, my dad is a counselor," Akira replied quickly, internally sighing with relief. "Taught me about everything he knows. It does come in handy from time to time."

"Now it certainly seems to have come in handy," Ann smiled again. "You're pretty good at talking through people's problems, Akira. And that's not too common, at least in my experience."

"I'm sorry you have that impression," replied Akira compassionately. "But I'm glad I could help, even if only a little."

"More than a little, I'd say." Ann walked by him and started traipsing down the sidewalk. "Come on," she called back to Akira, "let's hit up a couple more stores before heading back."

Akira shrugged, but not from any dissatisfaction with the situation. "Coming dear!" he called to her, prompting a hearty chuckle from Ann.

"Don't get coy, hero," she replied pleasantly as Akira caught up to her. "You're just helping with my shopping, that's all." Ann then winked at him, with Akira cursing himself as a blush fought its way to his face.

Akira and Ann then spent the next few hours wandering around the town, almost forgetting about the dire circumstances at play in their lives. Ann purchased very little save for lunch at a local food stand, but the more they meandered around Kamurocho, the more Akira came to understand just how much Ann was trying to distract herself from current events. She acted very jovially, inspecting every sale at any interesting store they passed by, even when she did not intend to buy anything. Akira knew she was not truly happy, but was instead trying to force some happiness out of herself.

He felt good about being able to help.

When the heat of the afternoon began to bear down on them, Akira and Ann had made their way back toward LeBlanc. Rounding a corner, they could now see the hotel up the road. _Thank God,_ Akira thought, as his arms were getting tired from carrying Ann's bags. They then made their way inside LeBlanc and practically fell into the seats in the lobby. Ann let her head fall back against the headrest and sighed.

" _Ugh,_ it's still so hot this late in the season. I need a margarita by a pool more than anything right now."

"Here, here," Akira agreed as he leaned back in the seat next to Ann's. "I'll take strawberry."

"Hell yes," Ann weakly raised a fist. "I don't care if it's not five o'clock yet, I'd do almost anything for a strawberry margarita."

"Remind me about that when it's happy hour at the bar down the hall."

"Don't think I won't."

Akira rubbed his eyes as he already felt his exhaustion start to whisk him away. Not wanting to fall right asleep, he stretched his back with a groan, trying to keep himself awake. Then again, what would a nap hurt him? He likely had a long night ahead, and any additional energy would be invaluable. He looked to Ann, who was staring into space as she tugged at her sweaty top, and put his arm over his eyes. All light blocked out from the outside world, he let out a sigh of relief. The lobby got slightly quieter…

"Hey, bro!"

"What the hell!" Akira bolted upright in his seat, his heart pounding against his chest. He looked around in a frenzy till his gaze fell on the visage of Ryuji standing over him, with Ann still sitting to the side, now repressing a laugh. "Ryuji!" Akira glared at him. "When did you get here?"

"Just now, man. You were out like a light."

"Ugh, are you kidding me?" Akira rubbed his eyes till he saw spots. "I only wanted to sit down for a couple minutes. How long has it been, Ann?"

"Only about twenty minutes," she replied, still covering her humored smile. "It's okay, man. I fell asleep too. I woke up right before Ryuji got here."

"Well, at least it was short."

Ryuji took a seat beside Akira. "Yeah, and so is this meetup, man. Boss is coming by soon and he's gonna give us the lowdown on our next move." He looked to Ann, who was watching him intently as he spoke. "Well, he's at least gonna give Akira and I the lowdown…"

"And me too," Ann replied casually.

Ryuji was taken back by her response, messing with his short hair as he thought of a reply. "I, uh, don't think that's our decision, Ann…"

"Oh, I know." She sat up in her seat slowly, her eyes narrow and steely. "I'm not mad at _you,_ boys. I just hope Boss understands that there's nothing he can say to get me out of this operation."

"Uh, Ann," said Akira, "you do remember he's a _yakuza_ , right?"

"I do," she nodded, then stretched her arms and let out a yawn. "I'm gonna go freshen up," she rose from her seat, her hips swaying to and fro as she walked away. "See you boys soon!" With that, she disappeared into the elevator.

Akira smacked his lips awkwardly. "So," he turned to Ryuji, "how long do we got until Sojiro gets here?"

"An hour… ish?"

"So you don't know," Akira deadpanned.

"Look, Iwai called me up when I was at home and said to run by here because the Boss is coming 'soon'," he made air quotes with his fingers. "Then, in typical Iwai fashion, he hanged up. I don't know when they'll be here, so all I do know is that we need to be ready for some important shit."

"At least we know he's got something." Akira got to his feet and stretched his back. "Well, guess we just gotta sit on our asses and wait like lapdogs then."

"Not exactly how I'd put it, but you're not wrong. Let's just chill out a bit in your room then."

"Sure, whatever," replied Akira dismissively.

Ryuji let out a boisterous laugh. "Guessing you're still pretty tired too, huh? Can't say I blame ya, though. I at least got to nap the whole morning." When they entered the elevator, Ryuji nudged Akira in the shoulder; in part to get his attention, and also to make sure his eyes remained opened. "Hey, what were you and Ann doin' together the whole day? And where's Shiho?"

Akira sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's complicated, man. Lots going on in those girls lives right now."

"Yeah, no kidding. But it's got something to with Kamoshida, doesn't it? What, Shiho too afraid of him to even head outside now?"

"Kind of, but that's not exactly it." The elevator opened and the two young men exited into the penthouse. "Shiho left this morning," Akira continued in a grim tone. "Apparently, the knowledge that Kamoshida was in town looking for herself and Ann was just too much for her to handle and she left to stay with some family not far from here."

"Dammit," Ryuji muttered. "That bastard is a parasite even when he's nowhere near his victims. At least she's safe. But what about Ann? She stayed behind to fight him, right?"

"You got it," Akira nodded. "She's hellbent on getting revenge on him. Obviously, I don't blame her, and I think she deserves at least some chance at some payback, but I also want to make sure she doesn't get herself hurt even more, or worse."

A brash, heated glare appeared on Ryuji's face. "And that's why we gotta take Kamoshida down now, before anyone else gets hurt by him."

Akira looked to his friend concerningly, taking stock of his increasingly vengeful attitude. "Honestly, I really hope I never end up having that same desire for revenge that you have, Ryuji."

"I don't like it, by any stretch. But I'll admit, there's a part of me that will enjoy when we get to take him down a peg, but I promise that my main goal is dishing out the justice that asshole deserves but never got. I hope it doesn't come to it, but if we have to do something drastic…" He trailed off and slowly took a seat at the table, folding his hands in front of himself. "If it comes to it," he continued in a dark tone, "if he puts any of us in serious danger like all the other women he's caught," his gaze met Akira's, icy cold and piercing like knives, "we have to end it. Permanently."

Surprise was not Akira felt at Ryuji's words, but he still felt unbearably uncomfortable. "Are you just saying that because you don't want anyone else to get hurt? Or, do you want to kill Kamoshida."

Ryuji looked away from him. "Both."

Akira crossed his arms, looking to the floor. "I had a feeling you'd say that. Don't think I blame you, because I don't. I just want to stay on the right side of history as much as I can."

"But if it comes to it, Akira, do you think you can do it?" That was the question Akira had hoped he would not be asked. "Given how you acted with that prisoner, do you think you could do it if our lives were on the line."

Akira almost stormed out of the room at that, but he kept himself still, almost deathly so, as he pondered on his response. He had a grasp of what the truthful answer would be, but even thinking through the words made his stomach curl and his tongue dry. "I don't know," he finally replied. "And that's what I'm worried about."

Ryuji nodded, leaning back in his chair. "You sound honest about it, and that's all I can ask of ya. At least I know there's a chance you'll save our asses if it comes down to it."

"Just stop talking," Akira muttered, turning away from Ryuji. They both remained silent for a long time. Akira paced around the foyer, while Ryuji remained seated pensively at the table. The tension was palpable, like a thick layer of fog hovering over the penthouse. It was in all likelihood completely unavoidable, as Akira knew he could have just kept his mouth shut, or have responded less harshly, but neither alternative would have been honest. At least his conscious could rest assured that he had not lied, for whatever it was worth.

The elevator dinged and in walked Ann with an unexpected spring in her step that dissipated immediately upon seeing the gloomy scene before her. Akira was looking out the window, arms crossed and shoulders rising and falling in rhythm with his deep breathing. Ryuji still sat at the table, hands folded in front of him. It took both of them a moment to realize Ann was standing in the entrance.

"Eh, is it a bad time?" she asked as she stopped herself from hanging up her purse, in case she was about to be asked to leave.

"Nah," said Ryuji plainly, "it's nothing."

Akira turned around to face them. His expression was dark, his eyes narrow. "Yeah, nothing you need to be concerned about."

"Then it is _something_ , isn't it?"

"Just a minor disagreement," said Ryuji. "Really not a big deal, okay?"

Ann looked to Akira, gauging his reaction to everything. He simply shook his head slowly, pursing his lips. Ann sighed and hung up her purse. "Fine, I can take a hint. Excuse me for being concerned," she muttered.

"How are _you_ doing?" Akira asked as he seated himself at the table.

"I'm alright. Just kind of… bland, out of it, I guess. The last day has probably taken more of a toll on me than I'm aware of." She fluffed and shook out her blond hair, still damp from her recent shower. "How are you guys doing?"

Ryuji rubbed his forehead. "Well, speaking for myself, I'm stressed, exhausted, and kinda hungry. How about you, Akira?"

"Basically the same. And I think I slept on my back wrong last night, it's been stiff all day."

Ann smiled at him, repressing a chuckle. "Oh, aren't you a trooper, Akira," she said in a mockingly sweet tone.

"Watch the attitude," he smirked at her, pointing his finger. "You're just gonna give me an even worse headache." Akira let out the slightest semblance of a laugh, but then groaned as he laid his head on the table. "Good god, I need a Tylenol."

"I've got some in my purse."

Akira lifted his head back up in an instant. "Please?" he asked.

Ann nodded with a smile and returned to her purse while Akira got himself a glass of water. Ryuji watched on in mild confusion, wondering as to what exactly had happened that morning for his two friends to become so chummy.

Ann handed Akira the pill and he took it while downing the whole glass of water in one go. "Thank you," he gasped for air.

Ann beamed back at him. "Yeah, don't mention it."

Ryuji cleared his throat. "We should be ready for Boss and Iwai anytime now."

"Bro, it's just some medicine," said Akira.

Ryuji was about to reply, but then simply rolled his eyes and reclined in his chair. "If I fall asleep, wake me up, please."

"Gotcha."

There was another ding from the elevator. "Well, guess not," Ryuji remarked sardonically.

Out of the elevator walked Sojiro and Iwai, their demeanor seeming completely unaffected by the events at hand. They strode into the foyer with little in the way of pleasantries.

"Good, you're both here," said Iwai, who then raised an eyebrow as he laid eyes on Ann. "And you brought a guest," he remarked. Ann wasted no time in reciprocating his narrowed gaze with a glare of her own.

"It's fine, Iwai," said Sojiro with a wave of his hand as he took a seat in the foyer by the window. "The girl has her own personal stake in the matter, as far as I am aware."

"But, sir, she's a civie."

"I am," Ann stood to her feet as resolutely as she spoke, "and a very pissed off one at that."

"Ann, wait," Ryuji tried to calm her down, but was completely ignored.

Ann strode up to Iwai as confidently as if addressing a rival model who said her nails were not done properly. "This is just as much my business as it is yours. In fact, most people would say it's even more important to me than you. It's just business for you people, right? Well, it's a hell of a lot more than that for me. More than you can even imagine." Iwai remained unmoved, Akira and Ryuji were both concerned they were about to undergo cardiac arrest, Sojiro reclined in his chair and watched on silently. "Do not _dare_ treat me like a child, especially when talking about _him._ "

Iwai's lips pursed at her, though his expression was not exactly angry. "You got serious guts on you, Miss," he replied. "I meant no offense, or to 'treat you like a child'."

"Uh huh, sure," she nodded indignantly, and then turned to Sojiro. "Well, Boss? Are you going to have this guy drag me out of the building? Am I not allowed to be here for your meeting regarding the man who's hurt me more than anyone or anything else in my life?"

Sojiro shrugged. "Nope."

Ann's mouth opened to provide a snarky reply, but she remained silent as she processed the old man's response. "Uh, what?" she finally got out.

"I said you will not be escorted off the premises," Boss replied as plain as if he were describing the taste of water. Ryuji was now trying to keep himself from passing out. "You are welcome to stay and talk with us, as long as you keep yourself in line, and don't provoke one of my strongest muscles here," he motioned to Iwai, who only nodded in response.

Ann's eyes widened to resemble plates before she awkwardly bowed. "Eh, thank you very much, sir," she stammered out.

"Yeah, yeah. Now, all three of you kids, come over this way. I don't feel like talking across the room the whole time." Wordlessly, the three young adults came to sit by the Boss. "Very good," said Sojiro. "Now we can get this mess out of the way."

Iwai stood at Sojiro's side, arms folded and jaw clenched. "Shall I start us off, Boss?" he addressed the older man.

"Go ahead," Sojiro replied plainly before settling further into his seat.

"Yes, sir." Iwai looked down on the young adults like a judge overseeing a hearing. He exuded authority and strength, keeping all three fixated on the yakuza. "Just this morning," he began, "we interrogated an associate of Mr. Kamoshida that came into our… _custody_ last night. He is, in fact," he looked to Ann, "one of the creeps that was stalking you outside of the club. As awful as the incident was, it turned to our advantage as we were able to track him down and subdue him. We found him to be under heavy influence of drugs, which impeded our interrogation of the jackass." The memory of the interrogation flooded Akira's mind, and all images, from the prisoner's crazed expression to his own outburst, made his fists clench and his ears ring.

"He is an employee of a pornography group called _Castle Dungeon_ , which specializes in some of the most horrific shit in the business." Iwai stated that with such uncouth tone that it shocked Akira and Ryuji, given the situation of their friend next to them. They both looked to Ann who, while still fixated on Iwai, was going pale. "Ms. Takamaki," he addressed her, "they were intent on stealing you and Ms. Suzui away, and using you in their next project. We believe they were scouting out the area, searching for you two when Ryuji and Akira found you. Now, rest assured we will be dealing with this situation to the full extent of our abilities, and are able to provide you with a guarded escort out of the city to anywhere in Tokyo." He paused and slowly looked to Sojiro. " _However,_ I believe the Boss has an alternative proposition for you."

Ann tried to respond, but her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to produce any sound as she looked to Boss.

"Young miss," Sojiro began, speaking as casually as he normally did, "you have made it very clear that you have a more personal stake in this matter than any of us, which I agree with. For us, this incident is based primarily on business and disgust, but for you, it's revenge. For both yourself and Shiho."

"Y-yes, sir," she finally managed.

"Now, just to be clear, there are absolutely no expectations set on you for this. If you want to leave this nastiness to us, you will be able to leave by dinner. But if you want to stay and help us, even if it's just to get a couple punches in if we capture that bastard, then I will allow it."

Ann fidgeted in her seat. Akira noticed both her brow and hands twitching as her gaze fell to the floor. He wanted to comfort her, to any degree he was able, until she raised her head again, now sporting the same icy glare she had exhibited when escaping the stalkers. "I stayed behind while Shiho left because I made a promise to her," she said darkly. "I've never broken a promise to her before, and this is by far the most important one I've ever made. I can't back out now, I _will_ not. I do have a request though."

Sojiro nodded knowingly. "Let's hear it."

"Akira, Ryuji, and myself get to hunt him down."

Had the boys at her sides been taking drinks, they would have both been wiping off their mouths after a simultaneous spit take. Akira and Ryuji were both beginning to wonder whether they would survive long enough to even fight Kamoshida after all the shocking revelations they were enduring. "Ann, are you sure?" Ryuji said.

"If you're going to tell me how dangerous this is, Ryuji, don't. I know the risks, but you know better than anyone here how personal is."

"Yeah, I know that, but still. This might be exactly what he wants."

"Good!" Ann stated strongly and rose to her feet. "If he's expecting me, it means he knows that I'm brave enough to take him on, that I'll do a hell of a lot more than just get a restraining order this time. He's probably not afraid of me, but at least he doesn't expect me to be afraid of _him_."

There was a brief moment of silence, broken only when Sojiro let out a hearty laugh. "I wish most of my men had as much moxie as you, Miss," he smiled widely. "If they did, we'd probably control all of Tokyo now." Ann glared down at him, not taking into account how it looked for a teenage girl to be looking down on a yakuza patriarch. "Consider your point made, Takamaki," he continued. "If you think you can fight with us, or at least keep us as we do the fighting, I'll allow it."

Akira and Ryuji could swear their souls were being pulled from their bodies.

Ann collected herself after her outburst. "Um, thank you, sir," she said.

"And don't any of you think about arguing with me," he looked between the other men present. "The girl will have her revenge, full stop."

"Understood," said Iwai with a nod, much to the others' surprise. "You should be grateful," he addressed Ann.

"Trust me, I am."

The reality of the situation set in for Akira and Ryuji, though believing said reality was proving more difficult. "This is gonna be interesting," Ryuji deadpanned.

"Certainly exciting," said Akira.

Ann seated herself once again and bowed her head. "I won't let any of you down, I promise."

"You're making a lot of promises, kid," said Sojiro. "Don't give away too much of yourself. Just a life lesson right there."

"I understand."

"Well, glad that's cleared up," Sojiro continued pleasantly. "Onto the second matter, we can thank Iwai's band of merry men for tracking down the most likely spot where Kamoshida is holding up. We set out tomorrow after sending in some discreet agents to scope out the place."

"You've found him!?" Ryuji exclaimed. "And you don't want to just take them on now before they escape?"

"Oh, trust me," Sojiro smirked. "They won't. My whole information network is on high alert to make sure no suspicious dealings are carried out in the city. They try _anything_ , and it will be as good as throwing themselves from a bridge. They may be drugged up fiends, but even they know that much."

Akira leaned back in his seat, trying to process everything that was happening around him. "Will you all be ready when the time comes?" Iwai asked.

"Absolutely," said Ann.

"Count on it," said Ryuji.

Akira's response was not as expedient. He gave them a sideways glance as he mulled over everything, until his eyes caught Ann's. She looked to him with a pleading gaze, though also one of fear. But hidden amongst that fear was a determination that was inspiring. He was not about to let his friends' metal be tested alone. "Kamoshida needs to be dealt with," he said slowly. "We need to take him down, and now." He looked to his friends, and smiled. "Let's go out and get your revenge, and cleanse this city."

Ann and Ryuji smiled brightly, Iwai nodded approvingly, and Sojiro stood to his feet. "In that case, make sure to get some rest tonight, all of you. And with luck, we'll all be celebrating tomorrow evening. It's time to finish this."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**House of Pleasure, House of Horrors**

Akira twiddled his thumbs as he sat in uncomfortable silence in the car. Seated next to Ann in the back seat as Iwai drove along the road, once again in the cool early morning, with Ryuji in his passenger seat to his left, Akira gazed up to the dark, murky gray sky above as the billowing clouds rolled along the firmament. It was as if Mother Nature herself was aiding in establishing the mood he felt about the whole business he had gotten himself into: bleak, depressing, anxious, and as gray morally as the clouds above.

To his right, Ann was gazing out the window, watching the buildings go by in a haze. Twenty minutes ago, they had met up in the lobby of LeBlanc, and except for the briefest of pleasantries, Ann had been completely silent. She also looked like she may not have slept at all the previous night, which seemed to go for Ryuji as well. Akira had slept only two hours himself.

He could only imagine what Ann was feeling right now. The anxiety Akira was experiencing was likely compounded exponentially for her, but few would know that given how emotionless she appeared. Every few seconds, she would lower the window about an inch, letting the cool wind flow through her hair, then raise it back up. She looked more like a bored child on a long car trip than a prospect vengeful assassin.

Ryuji on the other hand was simply glaring into nothingness, likely mulling over the thousand different ways he wished to take Kamoshida's life. Not that Akira blamed him, but simply took notice of much more outwardly expressive Ryuji was compared to Ann. His hands were folded in front of him, his fingers tapping against each other impatiently. His eyes moved between the windshield in front of him and the window to his left. No one said a word, and the silence was deafening. Iwai had not even turned on the radio. Akira had an inclination to incredibly politely ask for a bit of music, but even he did not possess the guts for such a thing.

They soon drove off the main thoroughfare of Kamurocho and on to the highway, passing by office buildings and apartments in droves. Everything blurred together for Akira, and time itself seemed to do the same. He was so tired that his eyes stung, and he had to pry his eyelids back open whenever he blinked. _Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll just wake up back in bed in my home, and all this would have been a dream. That'd be the happiest call to the psychologist's office ever. I just hope they would diagnose me as insane or something. But I guess even that would be better than this._

Ten sickening minutes later, they came on their destination. The building was about a mile off the highway, and well away from the city. " _Tekashi Real Estate_ " read a faded, decrepit sign near the top of the brick and mortar building. It looked like the place was ready to collapse, it was so old and run down. Vines and ivy grew up the rust colored brick, weaving into the broken windows along the three stories. Graffiti was splayed across the walls, most of the art appearing to be emblems of local gangs. All around the property was garbage, overgrown and dying grass, and broken bits of the crumbling building.

Ann leaned over toward Akira to get a better look at their destination. "Whoa," she muttered, leaning close to Akira, "I know they're a bunch of fiends, but this place looks like it could collapse at any moment."

"What a shithole," remarked Ryuji. Iwai said nothing as he pulled up to the building.

A group of eight yakuza were set up outside the entrance, standing around casually despite the guns each one held in hand. Five of them brandished basic nine millimeters, while the other three had far more imposing rifles in hand. As Iwai parked his car, the yakuza walked up to them as if to relay urgent information.

"Iwai-san," said one yakuza wielding a rifle as Iwai exited the car, "the scumbags got a bit cocky earlier this morning and tried to make a break for it. Their guns were crap, but they landed a couple shots on our guys."

"Anyone killed?" asked Iwai almost plainly, but with a distinct hint of worry in his usually bored voice.

"On our side? No, none. Just a couple surface wounds, nothing serious. On their side though…" As Ryuji exited the car, he overheard the conversation, and a strange mix of relief and worry welled within him. Some of the degenerates may have been dead, and that was excellent. He just hoped Kamoshida was still alive somewhere…

"They took some casualties, and serious wounds," the yakuza continued, "but their boss wasn't one of them. We think he's hiding underground while he lets his mooks do all the dirty work. God knows what he's up to down there."

"Have you infiltrated the compound?"

"We have, and even managed to save some captives while eliminating a few of the mooks. I have one team disposing of the bodies and another escorting the captives back to the city."

"Does that mean there's no more danger?" Ryuji butted in. "Can we head inside."

"Hold your horses, kid," said Iwai without looking at him. "What's the situation now?"

"They got their leader holed up in there, possibly armed, and it's possible he could have a couple goons still kicking around somewhere, but most of the opposition is already incapacitated or dead."

"Doing most of our job for us," Iwai nodded. "At least you saved the fun part for the new kids."

"As we were ordered," the yakuza bowed. "Will you be taking over, sir?"

Iwai looked to the entrance. "I'll scout around with them a bit, but then I'll let the kids have some freedom. You got any prisoners?"

"Two, sir, but they're too drugged up to talk yet. Seems like the goons all drugged themselves to high heaven before fighting us. Maybe they thought it would help them fight."

"I wouldn't put something that stupid past these degenerates." Iwai looked back at the patiently and awkwardly waiting teens. "They've done the hard work for us already. You should be grateful." He then walked past them to the back of the car and popped open the trunk. C'mere," he ordered. Iwai pulled out a metal case from under an assortment of unidentifiable junk and unlocked it with a dial lock. Opening the case revealed three gray handguns with complimentary ammo clips at their sides. Akira's stomach churned at the implication, as did Ann's. Ryuji however only appeared slightly confused. "I didn't want you playing with them in the car, even if they weren't loaded." Iwai picked one up, inspecting it briefly then looked down the barrel, holding it in front of him like a police officer. "You three ever shot one of these?"

"I have," said Ryuji. "Got plenty of training a few months ago."

Iwai nodded. "And you two?" he addressed Akira and Ann.

Ann, to the surprise of all involved, then said, "I was trained with small arms when I hit eighteen. I'm not a great shot, but I can operate a gun."

"Good to hear, less I gotta explain. And you, Akira?"

Akira's mother had trained him extensively in martial arts his whole life, claiming to be with the purpose of never having to use a gun. However, when he reached eighteen years old, she had let him handle a gun for the first time. "One day, your body may not be enough, Akira," she had said. "If that time ever comes, and you've chosen to carry a weapon with you, I want to make sure you know how to use it safely, and only as an _absolute_ last resort. There's never a reason to use a weapon unless everything is on the line."

That was something she had drilled into him over and over for the week she had trained him. His mother had likely spent more time lecturing him on how to respect firearms than actually letting him practice. When Iwai addressed him, Akira nodded and spoke plainly. "Yes, I can use it. I got training when I turned eighteen as well."

"Well, ain't it my lucky morning?" Iwai smirked. "I've gotten way too used to kids coming in off the streets who want to kick ass and take names but don't even know what 'nine millimeter' refers to." Iwai handed out the guns one by one. Akira was given his last, and felt the weight of the gun in his hand. It was of far better quality than the peashooter he had been trained with. Heavy, sturdy, and with a full clip; he could tell just by the feel. "Remember," Iwai spoke up, "these are _only_ an absolute last resort. Not only because they're worth as much as you, but because this isn't like the movies you've seen. Most of the fiends are taken or dead, but we can't be a hundred percent sure on what you're going to find in there." Iwai looked down at them coldly, but with the slightest hint of caring in his eyes. "Do not give them any chances. Be smart, be safe, and only pull those out when there's no other options."

 _Just like mom used to say._ The trio nodded respectfully, and Iwai motioned them toward the building. "We'll be monitoring everything from outside. Keep your cool, don't try anything flashy, and you'll be able to have your… _talk_ with Kamoshida. And if anyone gets in your way…" he trailed off, looking the trio up and down as his face darkened. "… prisoners are encouraged, but not required."

Ryuji whistled awkwardly. "Talk about hard-ass, Iwai," he shrugged dispassionately. "We're not here for war, just a bit of payback. We won't make a mess of the place, promise."

"Then quit you're slacking and get packing." Iwai reached into his jacket and pulled out a… tiny lollipop, which he then put in his mouth as he leaned against his car. With callous, determined glares, Ryuji and Ann put their guns in their jackets and started off toward the building. Akira was too stressed to notice until they were already a few yards away, and he ran to catch up with them.

Iwai watched the trio out of the corner of his gray eyes, listening to the footsteps on the gravel get fainter and fainter as they walked away. "Poor kids," he muttered. "They all ought to be home right now, not doing this kind of work with us." He took the lollipop out of his mouth and sighed, looking up to the billowing rainclouds above. "Goddammit."

Being watched all the way by the yakuza in Iwai's employ, Akira and company walked along the gravel path toward the imposing three story real estate building. Akira felt the weight of the pistol bob up and down in jacket as he walked, a constant reminder of the dire circumstances he found himself in. But he and his friends were resolute on pushing through the anxiety they were all experiencing, and then came up to the entrance.

The door was old, gray, and rotting near the base. Insects crawled up the frame from large holes in the wood, and it emanated a dreadful stench that made the whole trio's faces curl. Ryuji looked up to the top of the building and then back down to the door in front of them and sighed. "You guys ready?" he asked.

"I am," said Ann in a surprisingly stable and confident voice.

"Yeah," Akira continued, "let's go."

Ryuji put his hand on the door, feeling the damp, rotting wood and what he could have sworn was a few ants crawling under his hand. "Alright, let's rock."

With a fiery glare masking the anxiety he was experiencing, Ryuji took hold of the doorknob and twisted it lightly, though it still nearly fell off in his hand. The door creaked painfully on its hinges as he pushed it open, and more bugs came scurrying out from underneath the frame. Ann yelped and jumped back as a large bug crawled over her shoe, and only then realized she had taken hold of Akira's arm. Their eyes met awkwardly and Ann returned her hands to her side while Akira let out a forced cough that only made things more awkward.

The doorway then revealed a mostly empty foyer, old desks and chairs scattered about and covered completely in dust and cobwebs. The damp stench of rotting wood was far more prevalent inside, causing Ann to gag in her throat and Akira's eyes to sting.

Ryuji waved his hand in front of his nose, coughing at the stench. "Jesus, it smells worse than the Shujin men's room after track."

"Okay, not the image I needed right now," said Ann. "God, you'd really have to be drugged up to ever be fine staying here."

Akira caught himself as he nearly tripped over an overturned chair. "I don't think these people were too concerned with comfort," he muttered. "Good thing most of them are dead now though."

"You got that right, man," Ryuji replied as he examined the foyer, deciding on a way forward. "I'm not one for killing, despite what some people may think with how I talk about Kamoshida, but the stuff these people do ain't just… killing. It's not for any purpose but because they enjoy it. It's fucking sick."

"Animals like that don't deserve to steal our oxygen," Ann said with a scornful tone. Akira noticed her grab the side of her jacket, obviously feeling for her gun.

"Damn right, Takamaki," said Ryuji. "I'll be sure to let you get a few hits in when he find—Oh, shit." Ryuji's sudden expletive caught his friend's attention, prompting them to look over to him. To their left, Ryuji was standing stone still, looking down on something behind what must have once been the reception desk.

Ann walked up behind him briskly. "What did you find—" Her voice caught, and Akira did not even have time to ask for clarification when he saw what they had found: a dead body of a man, dried blood splattered all over his body. "Oh my god," Ann muttered, backing away to Akira's side slowly.

"One of Kamoshida's men," Ryuji said with a dark tone. "Must have never been found by Iwai's guys."

"How would that happen?" asked Akira whilst trying not to vomit. "They combed this place top to bottom, right? Look," he pointed to the man's chest, "the blood's dry but it still bright red. It must be fresh then, huh?"

"Yeah, but what would have done him in then? If he was taking the coward's way out, he would have a wound in the head, not one, two, three, four holes in his chest."

"Maybe it wasn't him," Ann added, her eyes still wide and dazed.

"What do ya mean?" asked Ryuji.

"If the wounds are fresh, maybe he was killed by one of Kamoshida's other guys. No honor among thieves, right? Or maybe it was Kamoshida himself."

Akira and Ryuji looked at each other concerningly. "Getting rid of the fuck-up, maybe," said Akira. "Or didn't want the guy to talk."

"You might be right," Ryuji nodded. "Shit, we gotta end this thing fast."

"Let's look for any staircases," said Ann as she turned on her heel. "If Kamoshida is here, he'd be in hiding. We'll check every floor until we find him."

The boys were confused by Ann's sudden resolute attitude, but nonetheless felt better for it. "Yes, ma'am," Akira mumbled.

Proceeding throughout the foyer enlightened them to little of importance. There was left over garbage likely from the fiends who had resided there until that morning, including evidence of serious drug usage, just as syringes and what Akira's still somewhat innocent mind surmised to be a bong. After a couple minutes of anxious examination of the scene, Akira came upon a long, dusty hallway far behind the reception desk. At the end of the hall seemed to be an elevator that would be moronic to utilize, and a utility stairwell.

Akira indicated for his companions to follow him, and they tentatively did so. "Into the belly of the beast," remarked Ryuji.

"Keep your eyes and ears open," Ann said as she purposely positioned herself in between the boys.

Akira coughed and sneezed from the abundance of dust in the hall, cursing his luck as they approached the door. Metal, scratched up, and covered in some kind of orange-brown residue that the trio decided was best not to guess at the nature of. Akira tried to move the door handle, but it would not budge no matter how hard he tried.

"Shit, it's locked," he muttered, then felt Ryuji's hand on his shoulder ushering him out of the way.

"Gotta think a bit more creatively, man," Ryuji smirked. "Observe." Ryuji pulled out his pistol and aimed it directly at the door handle, his self-satisfied grin growing more prominent, until he fired and all of their ears began to ring excruciatingly. The sound of the gunshot was amplified exponentially in the metal corridor, prompting all three friends to cry out in pain.

"Holy shit, man!" screamed Akira as he cupped his ears.

"What the hell, Ryuji!?" Ann screamed in turn.

"Hey, hey! It sounded like a good idea at the time, dammit! I'm just trying to get us movin', ya know!?"

Ann scowled at him while rubbing her ears under her air. "We know, but you don't have to be so stupid about it!"

"Okay, calm down, guys!" Akira interrupted. "The door should be unlocked now, so let's just move on. None of us wanna be here any longer than we have to, so let's hurry and get this over with before any of us does something _really_ stupid."

Ann and Ryuji nodded after a moment. "Right, sorry, guys," she said sheepishly.

"No, you're right," Ryuji added. "I should've warned you guys. I'm sorry too."

"Great, we're all sorry and made up," Akira snided with a shrug. "Now can we please move on?"

And so they did.

Akira slowly pushed the metal door open, gritting his teeth at the uncomfortable metallic scratching and grinding noise it produced as it slid along its hinges. A descending metal staircase was revealed to them, surprisingly illuminated by two dirty, ancient looking lightbulbs hanging overhead.

"They must have a generator running somewhere down here," said Akira.

"Gotta power their equipment somehow," Ann remarked darkly.

Ryuji scowled at her statement. "Just another reason to take them down."

"Damn right," replied Ann, feeling her pistol through her jacket again.

Their footsteps echoed through the stairwell, reverberating through the hall loudly. With every step, they all felt more pensive and nervous. When they came to the bottom of the stairwell, they were greeted by a large, mostly empty room with concrete flooring and exposed water-damaged drywall. Along the floor, wires and electronic equipment were strewn about in far apart dirty piles.

Akira knelt down beside the first pile to examine it. "These are way newer than the building itself," he remarked, then felt the plug of a wire with his fingers. "It's not hot, which hopefully means they haven't gotten to use it in a while."

"They've hopefully been too busy getting shot up to make any more films," said Ryuji.

"You're not entirely wrong," said a smarmy, familiar voice over an intercom they were not aware of. Ryuji and Ann's hands went to their jacket pockets immediately. "My boys and I haven't gotten much fun in the last couple days."

"Kamoshida," Ryuji growled. "Come out and show your ugly mug, asshole!" he shouted.

"Why the hell would I? I know you were a complete fucking moron, Sakamato, but it's three on one. I thought you at least had a grasp of basic arithmetic."

Before Ryuji was able to unleash his verbal wrath, Ann interjected, "Come say that to his face instead of hiding like a cornered rat!"

"I'll admit, it's a bit of a foxhole situation, but that doesn't mean I'm entirely lost yet. If you really wanna come chat with your old teach for old time's sake, then you'll just have to come through that door over there."

Looking around, they spied a double door at the back of the room, concealed almost entirely by a lack of light at that end of the room. To say the situation was ominous would be a massive understatement. "This smells like bullshit," Ryuji muttered.

"Just don't take too long," Kamoshida said in a disturbingly plain and casual tone. "We're already getting _bored_."

Ann gulped in her throat. " _We?_ "

There was a click over the intercom, and then earie, painful silence. "I have a really bad feeling about this," said Akira.

Ryuji pulled his gun back out, running his fingers along the handle. "Alright," he said in a near whisper, "time to kick some ass."

Ann did the same, her fear turning to burning determination. "This one's for Shiho, you bastard," she muttered.

In turn, Akira pulled out his pistol and held it in front of him as he was drilled to do so. His finger was not on the trigger, but he felt his fingertips being pulled toward the slick, cold metal in preparation for his meeting with the monster. "It's showtime."

They walked briskly into the darkness and to the doors, but stopped in their tracks when they were able to make out large, faded red lettering scrawled across them. Ann began reading aloud, "Do not open… when _filming_."

"Oh, _shit,_ " said Ryuji.

Akira leaned up against the door, his finger millimeters from the trigger of his pistol. "Clear your corners, and don't get cocky," he said.

"Right on," said Ryuji, taking the same position against the other door. Ann got behind Akira, her fingers trembling and her breathing shallow.

"Ready?" asked Akira with a quiver in his voice. His friends nodded uneasily. "Alright. One, two…"

Akira turned the door handle and pushed it open with lightning speed. The trio blasted through the doorway with guns outstretched and a fire in their souls. The adrenaline was getting to them, to the point that it took them a moment to take in what was in front of them: a small, empty storage room, one lightbulb over hanging from the ceiling, and directly underneath it was a chair.

And in that chair was a girl with long, scraggly red hair, a thin frame, and a red ball gag in her mouth. The girl tried to scream as the doors flung open, but any sound she made was muffled by the gag. But her expression was that of complete, abject terror.

"Whoa, whoa!" Akira shouted to defuse his friends as he realized what he was looking at. He tried to force his breathing and heartrate to calm as he continued. "Guys, look," he indicated to the girl, who was still squirming in her seat in a panic, mewling through her gag and tears streaming down her gaunt face.

"Oh my god," Ann gasped.

"Holy fuck," said Ryuji.

Akira rushed over to the girl, who tried her best to struggle against her bonds to escape him. "Hey, hey, it's okay!" he grabbed her shoulders to keep from toppling over. "We're not with them, okay? You're safe now!" The girl shook her head no, as if calling Akira a liar. He could tell by her frantic expression that she was likely entering shock, which was only gonna make things more difficult.

Ann then came to her side as Ryuji stayed at the entrance of the room, guarding his friends and starting to examine their surroundings while keeping an eye on the mysterious girl. Ann put a hand on the girl's shoulder gently to get her attention while minimizing the chance of scaring her more. "Hey, hon?" she asked in an incredibly compassionate voice. The girl looked to her as more tears fell down her face. Under her eyes was dark to the point of looking like bruises. "It's okay, I promise," she kept the girl's eyes focused on her. "We're going to get you out of here, okay? I swear, you are going to be alright."

The girl tried to respond while fighting her gag, but the plastic in her mouth seemed to only make her panic more. Akira looked behind her head, seeing a tight leather strap wrapped around her head and held together with a metal fasten. He remembered the knife he had been given by Ma, and now it would finally come in use. But pulling a knife on a panicked kidnapping victim would likely only make things worse for them.

"Ann, keep her focused on you for a sec," he said as he reached into the other side of his coat to get the knife. She looked confused, but he responded with a knowing smile. "Trust me," he nodded to her. Ann responded in kind.

Gently squeezing the girl's shoulder, Ann gave her a warm smile that completely masked the crippling fear she was experiencing. The girl continued to cry and whimper against her gag, but at least was no longer thrashing about in her chair. "You understand what we've been saying, right?" Ann asked her in a soft voice. The girl nodded slowly, weakly. "Then you can trust us, we _will_ get you out of here. You _will_ be safe, hon, I swear."

As Akira unsheathed the knife behind her, the red-haired girl seemed to relax slightly more at Ann's words. While her eyes still welled with tears, they seemed to no longer be those of shock, but of hope, an uncertain relief she was clinging to against all odds. Akira pulled on the leather strap quickly, and in one smooth motion, the knife cleaved through the leather like hot butter to both his and Ann's surprise. The red-haired girl whirled around in her seat, once again scared nearly out of her skin, but became still as stone when the ball gag tumbled out of her mouth and to the floor.

She gasped for air, titling her head upwards to the light above her before sputtering out saliva on herself. Drool trailed down her mouth as coughed, with Ann rubbing her back as the girl tried to collect herself. "It's okay," Ann tried to sooth her. "You're okay, you're alright. Just get it all out."

The girl let out one more long, hard cough that nearly made her vomit, but she swallowed it back down her throat with a loud gulp. She inhaled deeply as Ann continued to rub her back. "Th-thank you," the girl gasped out in a shaky voice, trying her best not to break down crying again. "Thank you so much…"

"Just a second, and you'll be out of those restraints," Akira said as he got to work cutting into the leather straps around her. The restraints were fastened around her bust, her waist, her ankles, and another strap was around her hands behind the wooden chair. The leather was dirty, appearing to be molding, and reeked of horrid, unthinkable scents and substances. It only took a couple saws for Akira to cut through the straps, and the girl immediately wrapped her arms around herself. She began to seemingly zone out, getting lost within herself as her gaze became long and unfocused, staring off into nothingness.

Behind the three of them, Ryuji was inspecting a small table of dirty, muck-covered metal. On the table were, strangely, a collection of medical instruments, such as surgical knives, scalpels, and needles. All these instruments were just as unsanitary as the table they were on and the room around them. On another shelf to his left, Ryuji spied an assortment of instruments of depravity – foul and debased perversions of what would normally be referred to as "adult toys", many connected to worker's tools such as electric drills and other such things one would normally find in a garage and not the bedroom. _I really hope they didn't get to use any of this shit on her,_ Ryuji thought, glancing back to the girl.

He spied Akira and Ann trying to console the girl as she curled up into herself. She breathed shallowly, shivering occasionally despite the humid heat of the room they were in. A stray tear fell down her face every few seconds.

"Hey," Akira whispered to her, lightly rubbing her shoulder. Eyes wide and bloodshot, she looked over to him with fear and sickness in her gaze. "What's your name?"

The girl looked between himself and Ann, whom she seemed to be more comfortable interacting with. "It's okay," Ann nodded, "you can tell us. Just start with your name, okay?"

The girl looked back down to the floor, rocking herself back and forth in the chair slowly. Her fingers tapped on her shoulders, her jaw was clenched tightly. Her feet, only in damp, dirty socks, shuffled on the floor under her. "M… my name i-is… Yoshizawa… K-Kasumi Yoshizawa…"

"Okay, Kasumi," Ann tried to smile for her, "you can come with us and we'll get you to safety, alright? You're going to be just fine—"

"But he's still here!" Kasumi whirled around in her seat, shouting into Ann's face with an expression as if she had just been in a car accident. "How can we escape if he's still _he-he-heeere…!?"_ Kasumi began to cry again, growing more frantic and panicking again.

"We got to get her out of here," Akira said imperatively. "She needs to get to a hospital or something."

Ryuji then put a hand on Akira's shoulder. "The Doc can look at her when we get back. She'll be able to help her out."

"'She'?"

"Yeah, she's a woman. Might be a bit more comfortable for Yoshizawa here, in that case."

"You're right," said Ann. She then tried to help Kasumi to her feet, but the girl was resistant. "Come on, Kasumi, you don't need to spend any more time here."

"But he's still here!"

"But _you_ won't be," Ann looked her dead in the eyes, as if trying to instill her own strength into Kasumi. Whatever she was doing must have worked, because the girl then slowly, shakily rose to her feet with Ann's help. "Wh-who are you people?" Kasumi asked as she fought to maintain her balance.

"The good guys," said Ann. "We're gonna help you and anyone else here get away from him."

Ryuji nodded resolutely. "We're not leaving anyone behind. We won't let anyone else be hurt by him. Including you."

Kasumi did not exhibit much reaction, but Ann felt her relax a little more on her shoulder. Ann was surprised at how light the girl was even when most of her bodyweight was resting on her, and this only concerned her more. She wanted to ask Kasumi how long she had been here, how did she get here, and what all had happened to her, but Ann knew there would be a better time for the conversation.

"A-a phone…" Kasumi mumbled tearfully. "Could you please get me to a phone? I… I need to call my family…" Her voice trailed off as she began to cry more.

"We'll get you to a phone as soon as we can," Ann said as they started to walk. "Just walk slowly with me, okay?" Kasumi nodded.

Not wanting the poor girl to hear him, Akira stepped closer to Ryuji and spoke quietly to him. "Hey, what about Kamoshida? If you want to stay and look for him, I can take Kasumi outside and you guys can go on ahead. This is your fight far more than it is mine."

Ryuji looked away from his friend. "As much as I'd like to hunt the bastard down right now, I think saving a life is a lot more important than our personal vendetta. That bastard isn't going anywhere without getting shot to hell. We'll make sure she's okay then come back, all three of us." He held out his fist to Akira with a grin, who bumped it in kind. "Besides, I think Kasumi could use some female attention for a little bit. You and I might just scare her more."

"I was thinking that too," Akira nodded. "At least you're not going to be kicking all the ass around here."

"I'll save a couple scraps for you."

They smirked at each other confidently as they walked behind Ann, who was trying her best to keep Kasumi calm. She whispered comforting things to her, and despite the panic still assaulting her, Kasumi made a hard and genuine effort to hone in on her savior's words. She nodded at Ann's soft voice, walked at a slow and steady pace, and kept her gaze forward and focused on their exit.

Then there was a shrill, throaty scream from behind them.

"What the fuck?" Ryuji whirled around on his heel, bringing his hand to his gun again. Kasumi screamed and wrapped her arms around Ann with all her might, which confirmed to the blond that she at least had some strength in her.

There was another similar shriek, and the sound of bounding, heavy footsteps rushing from far away to their right, back near the room they had found Kasumi in. Whatever it was, it was sprinting right for them.

"Ann, go," Akira commanded.

"What is that…?" Ann asked as she then held Kasumi tighter.

"Just run, we'll take care of this."

"P-please," Kasumi whispered, eyes as wide as plates.

There was a loud crashing noise, like something metal was just toppled over, and then in the doorway appeared a man, hunched over in ratty jeans and no shirt. He was scratching himself all over, drawing blood that smeared his arms and torso. He breathed heavily, erratically and let out grunts and groans in the same way.

"You gotta be kidding me," Akira muttered as he felt his body go nearly numb from fear.

The fiend bounded forward like an animal. The four young adults screamed. Neither Akira or Ryuji had time to pull out their guns before he made contact with Akira, nearly tackling him to the ground. He would have been flattened under the thin man if not for Ryuji grabbing his arm at the last possible instant. The fiend pushed against Akira, breathing heavily and slobbering into his face. Akira roared and kneed the man in the gut before Ryuji punched him to the ground.

Kasumi and Ann recoiled away from the fight, the redhead clinging to Ann for dear life. "Come on!" Ann shouted to her, turning toward the exit. Kasumi summoned all the strength in her body to run with Ann as Akira and Ryuji tried to subdue the fiend.

"Errrgh, stay down, you bastard!" Akira shouted as they pinned him down.

"The hell is this guy on!?" Ryuji shouted. The fiend thrashed about, shouting incoherently and gurgling in his throat. Foam erupted from his mouth as he tried to kick at Ryuji and Akira. "I said SHUT UP!" Ryuji brought down a powerful punch to the fiend's mouth, breaking two teeth and filling his mouth with blood. This only made him angrier, and he was about to break free from their grasp.

That same feeling from the interrogation welled in Akira. That same foggy adrenaline, indeterminate and all-encompassing. All he knew was this man, this _abomination_ , must be subdued.

The world once again, for the briefest moment, seemed to quiet as he grabbed the man's elbow and cocked it upward. There was a snapping noise, the fiend screamed, and blood began to pour out of the new wound like a flowing river. The bone had broken the skin. The pain caused the man to stop thrashing for a moment, and Akira and Ryuji took advantage of the brief calm. Ryuji punched him again, this time in his temple. His head bounced hard against the cold, metal flooring. He did not scream, only groaned. Akira got to his feet and grabbed the man's straggly hair. He shouted a battle cry and punched the fiend in the temple again.

Another hard bounce off the floor, and there was silence.

Breathing heavily, Akira and Ryuji rose to their feet. They looked down over their opponent, the reality of the situation only then hitting them.

"Holy shit," Ryuji whispered.

Fearing the worst, Akira asked, "He still alive?"

Ryuji rubbed his eyes and looked the man again. He nodded. "Still breathing, but barely. God, what kinda drugs was this guy on?"

"We're safe, that's what matters," said Akira.

"Don't be so confident," Kamoshida's voice came over the intercom again.

"Oh, you gotta be shitting me!" said Ryuji.

"I'm afraid I'm not, Sakamoto. But I am impressed you were able to take down my boy there so easily. And I got it all on tape too," he said proudly. "Though we never got to the main event, you guys could have a future in this business if you were a little more _adventurous_."

"Fuck this guy, Ryuji," Akira said. "Let's just make sure the girls are alright."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

"Aw, you're gonna just leave me high and dry?"

"Oh, we'll be back for you," Ryuji scowled. "There's just other people here who's lives actually have worth."

"You know, that may be the best comeback I've ever heard from you, Ryuji. Go on then, get your friends, be the knights in shining armor saving the princess from the goddamn castle guarded by a fucking dragon! It won't make any difference! I am not the dragon in this story, idiots! I am the _king!_ And I will make sure you all know that better than you know your own names!"

Akira decided to simply walk away, with Ryuji in tow, to find the girls. "I wanna say it's pathetic," he began. "I want to insult the guy, bring him down a peg. But after that guy he sent after us…"

"He really is dangerous," said Ryuji. "Keep your guard up from now on. Oh, and Akira…" Ryuji grabbed his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. Akira looked to him with a puzzled expression, but Ryuji was that of abject rage, and fear. "Don't you dare hold back. If you've got to fight, then fight like hell, man."

Akira lowered his head as Ryuji let go of his arm. "We may be with yakuza, but we're doing the right thing. We're heroes, Ryuji… Right?"

The moment of silence was long. "I don't know…"

 **[The final chapters of Arc 1 are upon us! I hope you enjoyed the first part of the finale for this first part. I am also happy to announce that we are now turning our story into an audiobook on YouTube! Follow the link here to see our work, currently up to Chapter 2 as of time of writing. Thank you for your support, and please leave a review!** channel/UCEmCw70KpULRqBYjidmmfxA]


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**The Bowels Part 1**

Akira shook off his hand as his knuckles and wrist stung sharply. The punch he had administered to the fiend sending shockwaves throughout his arm that now reverberated in his hand. He recalled feeling the bone of the man’s chin crack upon impact, seeing his head snap back and slamming into the floor underneath him. He had not taken any time to really assess the situation at hand when Ryuji pulled him away to check on the girls. Perhaps this was why his mind drifted away to the fiend now behind them, even when walking back into the open landing Ann and Kasumi were now resting in.

The boys found them sitting at the bottom of the staircase, clinging tightly to each other. Kasumi clutched her arms to herself, shivering and twitching as she stared into the floor. Ann rubbed her shoulders like a concerned older sister would but was obviously out of it herself. Her eyes darted around randomly, focusing indiscriminately on anything around the cluttered, decrepit room, then trailing back to Kasumi. Despite how rattled they were, Akira was glad they were at least physically unharmed.

He shook out his hand, dispelling the tingling stings of pain that snaked through his wrist and fingers before kneeling in front of the girls, meeting their eyes. Their thousand-yard stares came down upon him after a moment, and he noticed the glistening of tears in the corners of their eyes. “You guys okay?” he asked in a soft tone.

Kasumi looked away again, but Ann nodded. “Yeah, thanks to you guys.”

“Don’t mention it, really,” said Ryuji.

Akira gave Ann a small smile then turned his attention to Kasumi, who seemed to shiver again, her legs shaking rhythmically. “How’s she doing?”

“I think she’s in shock, but physically she’s okay. I’m just not sure what to do with her that won’t freak her out more.” She rubbed the younger girl’s shoulder, pulling her in close and resting Kasumi’s head on her arm.

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure that out myself. We’re not gonna put her through anything else unpleasant, but we still got a job to do here.”

“Maybe you can stay with her?” asked Ryuji. “Ann and I can go take care of Kamoshida, and you can stay behind and keep Kasumi company.”

“I can’t just let you guys go hunt that guy on your own. Even if you very well could manage it, I’m not gonna let you put yourself in any extra danger.”

“If we go and finish it quickly,” said Ann, “then we can all get out of here soon. I just want us all to be shut of this place as soon as possible.”

“Yes,” Kasumi piped in quickly. “Please, do whatever you can to get us out of here.” She looked around at them with pleading eyes. She looked to Akira like an injured puppy, or perhaps a cherub. There was a sheen of innocence and purity about her, and he was thankful that such innocence seemed to be mostly intact. 

Akira shook his head as he sat on the floor. Running his fingers through his thick hair, he said, “Just don’t be gone long. One hair stands up on my neck, and I’ll come find you, okay?”

“Appreciate it, man,” Ryuji smiled. 

Ann then knelt beside Akira, and to his surprise, wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered to him. “Be safe.”

Overcoming the momentary awkwardness, he returned the hug, his face being immersed in her long blond hair. “You too.” His chest tightened as she pulled away from him, a tear falling down her cheek. Ann stood beside Ryuji, exchanging a nervous nod. They turned their backs to Akira and Kasumi and walked away.

Akira leaned back on the floor while Kasumi held her legs to herself, closing her eyes. She buried her face in her knees, as if hiding from the world around her. Akira had half a mind to just leave her be, but a sting in his gut said otherwise. “Hey, you alright?” he asked softly.

Kasumi’s large eyes poked out over her knees in a way that was almost cute. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I kind of wish Ann had stayed…”

“She’ll be back soon, I know it,” Akira smiled falsely. “And we’re gonna get you out of here, I promise. No one else is going to hurt you.”

“How do you know?” Kasumi’s worried frown turned to a suspicious glare. “We were just ambushed.”

_She’s got a good point._ Before resigning his pride and potentially reducing Kasumi’s confidence in him, Akira had an idea. He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, holding it by the barrel so as to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Because I have this,” he said. “Anyone comes after us, I can protect you.” Akira’s eyes met hers, noticing her incredulous glower. “I swear it.”

“Why didn’t you use that before?”

Akira looked over his shoulder back at the fiend. He was out cold, even possibly dead. Akira banished that possibility from his mind. “He didn’t need to die,” Akira said slowly. “He was a victim of Kamoshida, just like yourself. Probably not a great guy, yeah, but we have another target to deal with. I won’t take a life unless I’m absolutely certain there’s no other way, and I knew there was another way.”

Kasumi’s glare softened; her eyes lowered. She lowered her legs to the bottom of the steps she was sitting on, now wrapping her arms around herself. “You showed mercy,” she said in almost a whisper.

“I don’t know if it’s mercy if you didn’t have to take a life, but I do know there was no reason to end his. However, if he gets up again and tries some shit, I’ll do anything needed to make sure we’re safe.”

Kasumi’s voice caught in her throat. Her eyebrows twitched and her fingers drummed on her sides. “I hate that anyone would have to make such a choice, especially on my account. You don’t seem like a bad man. You shouldn’t have to be here.”

Akira nodded, then let out a sigh. “You’re probably right, but if it means I saved your life, then I’m glad I was. I just want everything to turn out okay now, you get me?”

Kasumi nodded weakly. “You s-seem very kind… for an armed gunman.”

“I’m not a gunman, kid. I just have… strange bedfellows as of late.”

Kasumi looked put off once again, raising her eyebrow at him. “And who would those strange bedfellows be?”

Noting that the word “yakuza” would likely only freak out Kasumi more, Akira pondered on how to best respond to that question. “Let’s just say you and I have both recently found ourselves wrapped up in circumstances beyond our control, and not to our liking.”

“Whatever it is,” the girl replied curtly, “it must be far better than what happened to me.”

“From a literal perspective, you’re right. It’s just, complicated.” Akira stood up to stretch his legs, as well as to distract himself from the worries flooding his mind regarding his friends. It had only been a couple minutes, true – and it was still two on one – but no amount of rationale nor logical thinking was able to calm him. “So, do you remember how you got here, Yoshizawa?” The girl turned away at that. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with me asking.”

Kasumi shut her eyes tight; her shoulders twitched as if she were having a nightmare. “I-I’m not sure,” she said with a whimper. “I’m sorry…”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Akira forced a smile to his face as he tried to calm her. “If you don’t wanna talk, then –”

“But I do remember it,” Kasumi interjected. “At least, mostly.” She sighed, rubbing her face like she was trying to wake up from a deep slumber. “I’m… I’m a gymnast,” she began. “I was competing at a meet that was being hosted at the stadium in Kamurocho. I… was bombing pretty hard, honestly. At least judging by the expectations put on me. I was returning to my hotel after a meet last night… I think. Then there was a van that pulled up beside me, and the rest is a blur, or totally blank.”

“I see…” _Goddamn degenerates._ “So, you’re a victim of high expectations, huh?”

Kasumi nodded. “Basically, yeah.”

“I hear ya,” Akira nodded. “Kinda going through something like that myself, honestly.”

Akira could swear he heard the lightest, faintest chuckle come from Kasumi at that. “You a struggling athlete as well?”

“Well, not quite. Just caught up in circumstances beyond my control, like I said. And with that came expectations I wasn’t ready for.”

“I had time to prepare though,” said Kasumi. “I thought I _was_ ready. I gave it my all, and still was barely in the top half for the competition. I was expected to be in the top five, at least… Maybe this was my punishment…”

“Bullshit,” Akira added, causing Kasumi to bring her attention back to him. “That’s the shock talking, the emotional trauma. Therefore, we know it’s not true. Probably just your brain’s way of rationalizing what’s going on, but it’s still not true at all.”

Kasumi appeared very surprised, her face becoming still as her eyes widened. “You some kind of psychiatrist or something?”

Akira smirked. “Not really, but my dad is. Taught me the fundamentals, and I picked up lots of other stuff over the years just by being around him. But don’t think I’m psychoanalyzing you when I say that stuff. I say it because I mean it. This is _not_ your fault. It’s just bad luck.”

Yoshizawa’s eyes welled with tears again, and her gaze fell to the floor. Her arms wrapped tighter around her, and her body quivered as she began to cry. Akira felt as if he was about to have a heart attack, thinking he said something to upset her more, until her soft, youthful voice broke the increasingly painful silence. “Thank you…” she whispered, wiping her eyes of tears.

The tightening in Akira’s chest abated after she spoke. “You’re welcome.”

A gunshot, muffled and far away, ripped through the building in that calming moment. A scream caught in Kasumi’s throat, and no sound escaped her as her body tensed and she slinked back along the step, away from the door. Akira shot up to his feet in an instant. “The hell…?” He looked down to Kasumi, who had pulled her legs back up to herself again, looking up to him with terrified eyes. He did not want to ask her the following question, but he had to anyway. Even though he already knew how he was going to continue. 

“Kasumi?” he asked. The girl shivered, clutched her legs tighter, and then slowly looked up to him with a terrified expression. “I have to go. If you want, you can come with me, or you can stay here. But I’m not gonna leave you defenseless, okay?” He reached into his coat pocket and produced Ma’s mysterious knife, holding it out for the girl to get a good look at it. “This thing has already saved you once. It can save you again if you need it.”

“Y-you promise?”

Akira nodded. “I promise.” Kasumi took the knife in her trembling hands, inspecting the sheath closely. There was another gunshot; Akira’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. He met Kasumi’s eyes. She nodded her head slowly. “Thank you.”

“…you’re welcome.”

Before moving on, Akira dragged the knocked-out fiend into a nearby and closet and locked it tight, just in case. He glared down the hallway, and then marched on. Fire roared in his eyes; his whole body felt as if it were heating up. His fists clenched; his muscles tensed. The strength, the rage he felt that night and feared ever since was returning to him.

“You better not have touched a hair on their heads, you son of a bitch. Because if you have, you’re about to get a taste of Hell.”

**_Five minutes earlier…_**

Ryuji and Ann had only just made their way back to the chamber they found Kasumi in. While inspecting the walls for some kind of exit or structural weakness, Ryuji was startled by a loud crashing noise.

“Gah! The hell?!” he whirled around on his heel, seeing Ann standing tall over a collapsed table. Adult toys and devices were now strewn about the floor.

“Sorry,” she said, thoroughly embarrassed. “That just felt good to do.”

Ryuji shrugged and smacked his lips. “Can’t say I blame ya. I about did that myself when we found the girl.”

“You think they’ll be alright?”

“Akira’s with her. She’ll be safe, I’m sure. Besides, no one else is in here with us. I think…”

“There was that guy that attacked us. There could be more hiding in here.”

“That guy wasn’t hiding, I don’t think. He came out of nowhere a while after we got here. There’s no reason he would have just been camping in a corner to rush us when he did.”

“Are you saying Kamoshida, like, let him out to attack us?”

“Basically, yeah.” He continued to feel around the wall for any structural weaknesses. The dry wall was dirty, water stained and coarse to the touch. Ryuji could easily have punched through it if he was certain there was no inner layer for him to break his fist on. “Like mad fucking attack dog.” As his hand traced downward along the wall, Ryuji felt a small metal slot about three fingers in width. He pushed back on it away from himself, which caused a segment of the wall to depress away from him. A hallway, ominously lit by a couple lightbulbs strung from the ceiling, was revealed to them. “I’ll be damned,” Ryuji muttered.

“Oh my god,” Ann said from behind him.

The dim, yellow light from the bulbs illuminated the ample dust flying about the air in the hallway. There was a wretched, foul stench wafting their way from further down, seeming fleshy in nature. Ann covered her mouth as not to vomit from the stench alone. The air was dank and humid, almost heavy to them. Ryuji took a tepid step inside, with Ann following behind closely. 

“This is some real shit,” Ryuji said.

“That smell…” Ann covered her nose and mouth, “…it’s almost like… _decay_.”

Realizing the implication she was alluding to, Ryuji held his gun out in front of him with increased readiness, and unease. “Let’s hope to god that’s not it.”

Their footsteps clicked against the floor and reverberated against the walls. Ann stood as close to Ryuji as the cramped passage allowed, holding her gun downward by her leg. Flipping over the table in the previous chamber had alleviated her anxiety for a moment, but the dank and rancid corridor she walked through instilled those feelings within her once again. Despite her better judgment, Ann found her thoughts wandering to how her and Shiho were in reality very close to suffering the same fate as Kasumi. She pondered on what they would have done to her, how Kasumi came to be here, what would have happened to her and her best friend had they not come into the company of two young yakuza. She was also thankful that Kamoshida had not been able to enact his desires upon that poor girl, and now she was about to make sure no one would ever befall such a fate at his hands again. 

After a long minute of slow, tepid walking, Ann and Ryuji came upon another chamber. The putrid scent was growing stronger, upsetting Ann’s stomach all the more. She tried to breathe through her mouth to lessen the stench assaulting her by at least a little bit, and it truly did offer only a little relief. The room seemed to be some kind of storage area, with three doors on each side of them lining the walls. The lights in the ceiling above them were dim, yellow and dirty. Grime, dirt and all other manner of filth covered the floors underneath them, even making their shoes stick to it in certain spots.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” said Ann with her mouth covered.

Ryuji brushed his finger against the trigger of his gun, as if reminding himself that he had some bit of protection about him. “Maybe we should look around, see if we can find any more victims.”

“Or drugged up loons,” said Ann.

“You’re armed and dangerous, Takamaki. Remember that.”

“Adapt and overcome, right?”

“Hell yeah.” Ryuji then came up to the first door on his left, groaning at whatever brownish residue was spattered on it. A metal sliding panel was at his eye level, and he tentatively opened it to peer inside with a grinding creaking noise. The metal panel was, to his great surprise, cold. Very cold.

He looked through the dirty window that was revealed, squinting to better make out what was inside. His squinting eyes immediately widened fully as he saw, leaning back in a chair and tied up with chains, a woman – pale, looking up to the ceiling, and obviously dead. “Oh my god,” Ryuji muttered, taking a reflexive step backward.

“What is it?” asked Ann from behind him.

Ryuji shook his head as if clearing his mind before looking back inside. Within the room, which he surmised must be some kind of refrigerator, he got a better look at the Japanese woman chained to the chair. Her eyes were wide as she stared up to the ceiling, her jaw slack and hanging open. Wounds, fairly fresh and mostly open, scarred her body all over, which was mostly exposed as she only was adorned in lingerie. “There’s a woman in here,” said Ryuji slowly. “She’s… dead.”

“What the hell!?” Ann nudged him aside to investigate the refrigerator, but recoiled immediately at the slightest glance inside. She gasped, covered her mouth and backed away slowly. “What did they _do_ to her?” 

“I don’t think either of us want that question answered,” Ryuji shook his head. He then looked around the room slowly, focusing on the other doors. “And I’ll guess the other rooms in here aren’t going to be any more pleasant.”

“It’s like they’re – _storing_ them or something!”

Ryuji tightened his grip around his gun with a fiery scowl. “He will pay,” he muttered.

“He’ll pay for _everything_ ,” Ann continued.

From behind the two young adults, the sound of slow, clicking footsteps rang through the storage area. Ann turned around slowly while Ryuji spun on his heel, pistol at the ready. “Come out with your hands up! Or you’re gonna be breathin’ through a new hole in your head!”

“Still so vulgar, Sakamato,” came a calm, egotistical voice. The footsteps grew louder before stopping all together about twenty feet away from them. Kamoshida stood in the entrance opposite to them, wearing an obscenely tight t-shirt atop appalling leather shorts that left little to the imagination. The appearance was so jarring that Ann and Ryuji almost did not notice the shotgun he held in his hands. The girl raised her gun shakily toward him while taking two nervous steps backward. “You always have been so aggressive. It’s like your unevolved mind just can’t grasp the concept of subtlety.”

“You’re one to talk about being vulgar, _murderer_.”

“But isn’t that why you’re here, Sakamoto? To murder me? Your fellow man?”

Ann interjected before Ryuji could respond with further expletives. “Would anyone shed a tear for a concerned citizen putting down a rabid animal? They’d be _happy_ that a monster was removed from their town.”

“Rabid animal?” asked Kamoshida. “Monster? I’m a fucking _businessman_ , Takamaki. No one got upset about me using my talents to get the gold medal in ’84. What’s the big deal about taking a few drugged-up whorish addicts off the streets and putting them to use for the first time in their worthless lives?”

“You scum!” exclaimed Ann.

“Don’t you dare insult someone like me!” Kamoshida roared back. “I am an Olympian, a god among man! Through my own skills and talents alone, I soared to heights you pathetic peasants couldn’t even dream of! I deserve _everything_ I have, and everything I fucking want!”

Ryuji readied his pistol in front of him, his finger gracing the trigger. “Here’s one for ya, you _son of a bitch_ ,” he murmured.

Kamoshida, in a surprisingly fast flash of movement, readied his own dirty shotgun, pointing it not at Ryuji, but at Ann. Ryuji paused as his mind blanked, feeling as if his insides were melting. “C’mon, I know even you idiot kids were taught better than _that!_ Don’t you know that guns are fucking dangerous!?” 

Kamoshida cocked his shotgun as he stared down the barrel at Ann, who was stock still in terror. “ _ANN!”_ Ryuji exclaimed, blind-firing his pistol in the vague direction of Kamoshida as he tackled Ann to the ground. The sound of the gunshot reverberated off the walls at an ear-splitting volume, surprising Kamoshida just enough to throw off his aim, shooting well to the kids’ right, completely missing them. With terrified panting, Ryuji and Ann retreated backward into the hall they had entered from. Kamoshida retreated behind a nearby wall as well. 

“Shit!” Ryuji shouted, darting back into the corridor with Ann. “No one told us he had a freakin’ shotgun!”

“This is too much!” shouted Ann. “We can’t take him on that easily. It’s two on one, but that’s a much bigger gun!”

“We should have brought some of Iwai’s men in here. In fact, why the _fuck_ did they not come with us!?”

“Hey!” Kamoshida called out to them. “Make it easier on yourselves and come have an honest fight! I didn’t expect you two to bore me, of all people!”

“Shoot yourself with that thing, you goddamn _freak!”_ Ann shouted back.

“I will not quit while I’m at the top of my game! I have a business! A kingdom to rule!”

“Oh my GOD! Will you shut up about being a king!?”

“HEY!” the voice of Akira broke over the chaos, ringing out from a few meters behind them. “You guys alright!?”

“Akira!” Ann exclaimed.

“We’re okay, man!” Ryuji added. “How about you?!”

“I’m fine! I heard the gunshot and came after you guys! You absolutely should have let --!”

A blast from Kamoshida’s shotgun interrupted him, causing his heart to skip a beat. Luckily, neither of Akira’s friends were hit. “Is that the black haired jackass you were with, Sakamato?” Kamoshida shouted. “Even if you were able to make friends, it’s not gonna do you any good!” His voice trailed off as he continued. Kamoshida was running away, further into the underground storage area. 

It was only then that Ann realized she was not breathing, and let out a long sigh. Her heart was beating faster than ever in her life, feeling near to breaking out of her chest. She clutched her pistol to her chest, breathing deeply in and out. 

Ryuji slammed his fist into the floor with a loud grunt. “Ergh, that bastard is toying with us! He’s too much of a coward to take us on in a fair fight, so he wants us on his turf.”

“He’s got—” Ann was interrupted by her own deep breathing. “—the home field advantage, Ryuji. And I guess someone as insane as him still has a will to live.”

“I guess he’s not stupid,” said Akira as he approached. Seeing their friend emerge from the shadows set Ann and Ryuji at ease a bit, the former a bit more than the latter. “You guys okay?” he asked.

“Physically,” said Ryuji. “Kamoshida’s not a great shot, thank god.”

“I guess it might have been better if you had come with us,” Ann laughed weakly. “We might have gotten a shot on him.”

“You couldn’t have known, it’s alright.” Akira sat down beside Ann and sighed heavily before pursing his lips. She was surprised by how Akira seemed more annoyed than scared, but the image instilled in her some bit of confidence. Perhaps misplaced, yes, but she did not care in the moment. “There’s nothing wrong with you two wanting Kasumi to be kept safe. And before you say anything, she’s alright. She wanted to stay behind; understandable, I think. I gave her my knife to defend herself, just in case. She’s actually an athlete, so she should be able to handle herself.

“I’m glad she’s okay,” Ryuji added. “And that you came our way in the end. We underestimated that bastard.”

“Well, now I’m here with you, and we’re gonna finish this fast. Don’t wanna keep the girl waiting.”

“Are you sure about this?” Ann asked. “That was a pretty big gun.”

“Three on one, Ann,” said Ryuji. “Why do you think he ran.”

“Forgive me for having the jitters after all that,” Ann lowered her head shamefully.

“Forgiven,” said Akira with a smile. “If you want, you can head back with Kasumi, though. We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Ann paused, her fearful expression turning to one of festering anger. “I want to go back to her,” she said. “I want to leave this all behind. But I can’t.” She looked down at her pistol, grazing her thumb against the safety. She turned her gaze to the exit where Kamoshida had fled. “This one’s for Shiho.”

“Hell yeah,” Ryuji stood to his feet. “Shiho, and everyone else he’s hurt.”

Akira and Anns stood up in turn. They looked to each other, exchanging newfound moticrums of confidence. “Let’s just get this done, and be well shut of this place,” Akira stated. “It’s almost all over.”

They walked on down the corridor carefully; even their footsteps were quieter. They came to the hall Kamoshida had escaped through, peering deeply into the darkness that awaited them. Ann breathed out slowly, calming herself. Ryuji’s fire burned brighter within himself. Akira simply glared with an expression almost… condescending. “Fitting,” Akira remarked, “for a cornered rat.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The Bowels: Part Two**

The metal door grinded against the cement, forcing Akira to push harder against the door then anticipated. He held his gun out in front of him without even looking through the doorway, anticipating a sudden roar of a shotgun to greet him. Instead, there was the grinding metal noise, and then silence as the dark hall was revealed to them. Droplets of water reverberated off the walls in a slow rhythm. The already intense scent of putrification intensified as the door opened, assaulting the teens senses. 

“Gah!” Akira covered his mouth. “Geez, that’s awful!”

“This is hellish,” Ann muttered. “I can hardly believe there are people in this world like Kamoshida.”

“Well, there will be one less after we’re done,” said Ryuji darkly, his grip tightening on his pistol.

“Remember,” Akira said, now breathing through his mouth, “he’s got a shotgun. We may have him outnumbered but he can more than one of us at once. We’re still outgunned here, Sakamoto.”

“Then we just gotta be a hair faster than him and hit him somewhere it’ll hurt.”

“Your enthusiasm is… concerning, Ryuji,” Akira replied.

“We’re taking down a rabid dog, right?” Ryuji’s jaw clenched, a flash of stress appearing on his face. “What this thing – not man, _thing_ – has done is unacceptable, to put it _very_ lightly. I’m ready to do what’s needed.”

“Just keep your mind on the mission itself,” Akira looked back to him, “and get rid of those thoughts once you’re done.”

“Agreed.”

Soon after, they came on another wooden door. The air was heavy, humid, and musky. There was a slight draft of cool breeze coming from under the door, which left the teens confused. Akira tried twisting the door handle but found it to be locked. “There goes the quiet approach,” he remarked. “I’ll just break it off.”

“What if he hears us?” asked Ann.

“We’re gonna stay behind the walls until we know for sure.” They positioned themselves appropriately, and Akira kicked the knob off the door. Slowly, the door swung open away from them, with no shotgun blast to greet them. Akira peered around the doorway tepidly, anticipating the need to dart away so as not get his face blown off. Instead, he saw no man waiting for them, but a chamber similar to that of Kasumi’s. Its contents, however, were repulsive and vile. 

A woman’s nude body was restrained in a wooden chair, tied up in leather straps and slumped over. Three cameras and related equipment, such as wires and light fixtures, were around the woman’s body, focused directly on her. Similar tools and debased items to that of Kasumi’s chamber were strewn about around her, some of which even having an almost moist sheen to them when in direct lighting. 

“Good god,” Akira muttered.

“Is she…?” Ann began to question, but trailed off as if already processing the answer. 

Akira walked up to the woman, allowing him to get a better look at her body. Bruises, scars, even burn marks marred her skin to the point that there were more dark and discolored areas than normal areas. Her chest was still, not rising nor falling. Akira lightly pushed against her face to see it better, revealing even more egregious injuries all across her face. Her lower lip was split, her eyes dark and bruised. Dried spit, blood, and vomit spilled from her mouth and down to her collarbone. Akira recoiled away slowly without taking his eyes off her.

“This is so fucked,” he whispered. “This is what nearly happened to Kasumi.”

“Feeling a little more confident in how I feel now?” asked Ryuji, looking down on the desecrated body.

“That might be one way to put it.” 

A terrified scream interrupted them, followed by a gunshot and the sound of many heavy, metallic items falling to the floor. The cacophony came from about twelve meters in front of them, and the group readied their guns reflexively. “Dammit!” Ryuji swore. “This animal’s still whackin’ people!”

“Now or never,” said Ann from behind them, and then rushed to their front. “C’mon, guys!”

With not but three pistols and the power of will, they charged through the unlocked door opposite them and found themselves in a storage area. Camera equipment and props lined the walls and were scattered about the floors, many of which were broken apart into sharp pieces. At the other end of the large storage room, there was a collapsed shelf of heavy looking camera gear, and poking out from underneath the pile of electronics was a man, bloodied and barely breathing. Rushing over to him, the gang noticed a pool of blood starting to seep out from under his body.

The man was breathing sharply and shallowly, almost hyperventilating but could not be taking in much air. As blood poured from his mouth and nose, he looked up to them with reddened eyes. His expression was… scared, pleading, and pained. “H-he…” the man spoke in a harsh rasp, “is… he-here…” His head tilted to its side, and his labored breathing ceased. Akira and Ann both simultaneously realized that this was the first time either of them had watched a person expire. Both their guts churned at the realization, and the image.

A low, conniving laugh pulled Akira’s attention away from the corpse slowly. To their right, out from behind a wall, emerged Suguru Kamoshida, holding his shotgun at his side. A spatter of blood was on his face, though he did not seem to notice as he smiled at them a wide, almost snake-like grin.

He spoke in a concerningly smooth and natural tone. “Welcome to the dungeons, kids. Did you like your previews of our upcoming films?”

“You mean those girls in the freezer?” Ryuji snarled. “And the body we found in the other room?”

“No, I mean the idiot under the shelf behind ya, of course I mean the girls! God, how did someone as stupid as you ever even get into high school?”

“Say that again, asshole!” Ryuji readied his gun.

“Whoa, whoa, kid! Put your gun away!” Kamoshida smirked. “No one else has to die here, you know? I’ve got a little proposition for you, one that’s mutually beneficial for all parties.”

“Uh uh!” Ann interjected. “No, no way, nada, not a chance! You don’t get to negotiate and monologue like some super villain! You get to pay for your crimes, and we get to walk away!” Ann readied her pistol as well, gritting her teeth and white knuckling her gun. “ _That’s_ how this is gonna go down. You die, we walk. Now, let’s get this over with.”

“If only you had shown this much fire back in high school, Takamaki,” Kamoshida taunted with a casual tone. “I always liked it when girls fought back a little.”

“Even when it’s three on one, you still can’t get your mind out of the gutter. You’re just a pig who needs to be put to the slaughter.”

“Face it, asshole,” Akira, standing in line with his friends, raised his gun with them, “your time is up.” Three young adults stared down their adversary. They did not blink; they did not move. Time around them seemed to freeze. Kamoshida appeared unphased by the situation he was in, looking back at them with a blank stare, which only made the three teens more enraged. 

“Any last words?” asked Ryuji.

“If I may,” Kamoshida nodded. His hand tightened around his shotgun. “Give unto Caesar,” their fingers tightened on the triggers, “that which is Caesar’s.” 

Kamoshida dove to his side while pressing down on the shotgun’s trigger. However, the teens reflexes took over, and even though the roar of gunshot rang out through the small room, to them, every sound was distant, faded, as if traveling through a great body of water. Akira’s reflexes proved slightly faster than his friends’, and his shot went off first. The bullet travelled through the air, and while he was aiming originally for Kamoshida’s head, the sudden dive through off his calculations. Instead, the bullet managed to imbed itself into their enemy’s right knuckle, sending his hand backward away from them a fraction of a second before Kamoshda pulled the trigger. The pellets went well to the teen’s left, missing them entirely.

Kamoshida disappeared behind the wall, yelping in pain as he dropped his shotgun. Blood began to pour out of the new hole in his hand, trying to move it as little as possible as a severe burning sensation shot up his arm. The shotgun lay on the ground beside him, and he picked it up with his left hand. “How can he aim like that?” Kamoshida muttered, glowering at his bloodied hand. “Lucky bastard.” 

The teens tried to corner their mark, but a warning shot stopped them in their tracks. No one was hit, but they were scared by the shot. Kamoshida ran away once again, through a large, rectangular opening about ten feet wide. Blood trailed off his hand and onto the floor, leaving red spots in his wake. Akira and his companions rushed behind him, taking cover behind any walls they came across for a moment to make sure they were not being shot at. 

“Shit!” Ryuji exclaimed. “Even when he’s injured, he’s still quick!”

They soon cornered their mark once again at the end of the hall, passing another door on their way. Kamoshida was slumped over with his back turned them, breathing laboriously as he clutched his hand. His shotgun lay on the floor next to him, caked in blood. 

“Here we are again,” Akira muttered. “Finally gonna let us finish this?”

Kamoshida breathed out heavily before turning back to look at his pursuers. His eyes were wide, almost feral. Akira got a good look at his hand as well. It was pale under the blood stains, and the flow seemed to be abating. He surmised there likely was not much blood left in his hand by this point.

“I… I guess the jig really is up then,” Kamoshida growled.

“And why’s that?” Ann pressed him. “You got a shotgun right there, why aren’t you lighting us up?”

Kamoshida began licking his hand, the thick blood congealing on his mouth and face in a macabre image. “I-I didn’t want to _kill_ you, Takamaki! Why the hell would I? All of this shit I’m doing was for _you!”_

“You what!?” Ann shouted, holding her gun tighter in her hand. Her teeth were bared and her eyes fiery as she took one confident step forward, as if she were a predator backing down her prey. 

Kamoshida breathed heavily as he removed his hand from his mouth. The image was sickening, looking like a vampire or zombie. His pupils were wide, his eyes darting about and seeming slightly unfocused, like a rabid animal. “You were to be… my magnum opus, Ann. I have spent fucking _months_ looking for you, tracking you, studying you and waiting for the right time to bring you to my castle. And then when we found out you were coming to this shithole that is Kamurocho with little Suzui Shiho herself. My two biggest missed opportunities, all alone in one of the seediest red-light districts in Tokyo? Well, I considered myself truly blessed.”

Ann looked away, down to her side. She lowered her gun slightly as her face was wrought with disgust, though strangely no perceptible sign of fear. As her gaze then turned upward to the ceiling, she let out a laugh that Akira found chilling.

“And I thought you were a monster back in high school,” she began. “I didn’t know you were truly this sick. Those girls that you killed, they were for pornos, right? You get off on maiming and killing the innocent.”

“You say that like I’m the only one, baby –” Kamoshida was cut off by a gunshot, and a new hole in the ground at his feet.

Ann glowered at him disdainfully, gun rising from being pointed at the ground to aimed directly into his eyes. “Do not call me that ever again.”

Kamoshida smacked his lips dismissively, as if having a gun pointed at him by a woman scorned was only a minor nuisance to him. “I can’t say I’m surprised by this,” he remarked. “You always were so closed minded. You know, there’s a natural order to this world; a food chain of sorts.”

“Great,” Akira rolled his eyes, “he’s gonna monologue for us.”

“If you just knew your place back then, Takamaki, I probably would have let you off easy! None of this tracking and stalking shit, had you just done what you were told. That dipshit in the other room didn’t know that either, and that’s why I shot him. Caught him trying to steal my hard earned money ‘cuz he thought we were up shit creek. Got what was coming to him, and so should you.”

“You wanted to do horrible, unspeakable things to me! I was just protecting myself and my friend from you! There is no _food chain_ in this world! There is no natural order that gives you the right to take advantage of anyone!”

“I am one of the greatest athletes on _Earth_ , you ungrateful bitch! How much did I do for you and Shiho in high school in exchange for a couple phone calls!? I got Shiho in the starting position on volleyball, gave you connections for your modeling career. You would not be where you are today _WITHOUT ME!”_ Kamoshida was growing more manic by the second, baring his teeth as he shouted down Ann. “Remember that Kishima guy from _Shujin Heights_ magazine? You would never have met him if not for me! He’s the one that really kickstarted your career, isn’t he!? If it weren’t for me being so fucking generous with someone as beneath me as _you,_ you would still be nothing but a prime example of the dumb, ditzy blond barely making it through school!”

In a flash, Ann pinned Kamoshida’s injured hand to the wall behind him, snapping three bones and making him howl in agony. Tears welling in her eyes, Ann sneered at him, saying, “You think you’re so far above everyone, but you’re just as human as us, just as weak. That pain and your screams are all the evidence you need.” She kicked his hand again, crushing two more bones and leaving bloody stains on the wall. 

Ryuij grabbed Kamoshida’s shirt collar after Ann retracted her foot. He slammed their adversary’s head into the wall and kicked the shotgun away from them, just in case. “And don’t think Ann’s the only one getting her licks in, you bastard! If I could, I’d bring every person you ever hurt down here and let them all beat you to a bloody pulp! But since it’s just us…” Ryuji whirled into a roundhouse kick and put all his bodyweight into the side of Kamoshida’s knee, instantly breaking it. The man fell to the floor with a scream. 

Akira watched on with a fixated interest, his eyes moving between his friends and their enemy. Though, he began to think that perhaps victim would be a more apt term here. The balance of power seemed to have changed significantly enough to warrant a different classification. Kamoshida appeared to have given up, now reduced to gasps and incoherent mumbling as he reeled around on the floor. 

It took a much more feminine cry from well behind him to bring him back to the real world.

Akira turned around inquisitively, drawn to the cries of a woman from somewhere behind them. Ryuji was busy too stomping on Kamoshida’s nearly broken leg to notice, but Ann did a moment later. She grabbed his shirt, even hitting him on the shoulder to gain his attention.

“Ryuji!” she screamed into his ear.

The blond man turned to her, eyes frenzied and animalistic. She was taken aback a moment, frightened by the lack of cognition on her old friend’s face, but he seemed to regain some of his senses after a moment. “What?” he snarled.

“Someone just screamed… A woman…” Ann muttered. Akira was still peering down the hall toward the sound of the scream when he heard it again, and then another in a different, but still female voice. 

Ryuji took a moment to make sense of what was happening, then looked down at Kamoshida. Their enemy was barely conscious now, breathing shallowly and gazing blankly into space. Ryuji almost felt pity for him, much to his shock. “What was that?”

Kamoshida chuckled in his throat, concluding in spitting up a few drops of hot blood. “More backup plans,” he muttered.

Ryuji wasted no time in grabbing the shotgun and storming off toward the sound of the screams. Ann and Akira followed close behind, leaving their victim alone, slumped on the floor and whimpering from the pain. For a moment, that is. As they made their way down the hall, a hoarse and vile cackle followed them, reverberating off the walls in a way entirely eerie and disturbing. Akira felt a chill run up his spine at the rough and evil noise, followed by labored and scratchy coughing. 

_This is hell. This is total hell._

Walking down the hall, they soon came the other metal door they had passed while pursuing Kamoshida. It had appeared innocuous in the chaos of that moment, but another cry for help from behind the door indicated otherwise. Finding out the door was locked, Akira shot the handle on the door to open it; panicked screams were their reward as the door swung open. A chilling scene was revealed to them: a cage door, rusted and filthy, barring the teens from four young women, with only two of them standing on their feet.

They wore rags barely able to cover their womanly areas, and these pitiful rags were covered in sick looking stains and dirty. The two standing women recoiled in fear as Akira and his companions entered the room, hiding their bruised and thinning faces from the two young men. As they whimpered and mumbled to themselves, they appeared to be so terrified that they did not notice the blond young woman accompanying them. 

The other two captives laid on the floor, one of them hiding her face and the other seemingly unconscious on the ground. Apart from a few ratty blankets on the floor underneath to them, the cage was completely empty. 

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Akira said calmly, extending out his hands after putting away his gun. “We’re not here to hurt you, we’re getting you out of here.” The women shook their heads, not believing a word he was saying. Akira knelt down to look at the women closer to eye level, anticipating how it may make him appear less threatening. “We _will_ rescue you, I promise. We beat your captor, you’re all safe now.”

“…the gunshots?” one woman asked in a weak, hoarse whisper. “Were the gunshots from you?”

“Yeah, we’re saving everyone here,” Akira nodded, offering a slight smile. “You’ll all be out of here before you know it, promise.”

The women then inched forward, seemingly trusting the teens a little more. Akira nodded silently, affirming their trust. “Wh-who are you?”

“They are heroes,” whispered another woman, seemingly the youngest of the group. “They are heroes who came to save us…”

“Is that true?” asked another. “Are you really heroes?”

Akira looked back to his friends pensively. He certainly had never been in any situation remotely like this, and was only doing what the balance between adrenaline and logic was telling him to do. Ryuji gave him a confident nod, a hint of a smirk sneaking to his lips. Ann’s confidence manifested in a strong glare, determination written across her face as clear as day. Akira nodded before turning back to the women. “We are,” he agreed. “We’re the heroes, and we’re gonna get you all out of here safe and sound. We got friends up top who can come and get you, we just gotta tell them where you are.”

“You’ll be alright, all of you,” Ann interjected. Her hands were folded in front of her, as if pleading to the women to truly believe her, to hand on every word she said. “That man can’t hurt you anymore. I know what he’s like as well, I’m a victim too. But we took care of him, my friends and I.” She paused, looking away with a pained expression before returning her gaze to the captives. Her eyes were misty, her voice shaking, but she exuded a quiet yet iron-clad resolve. “We did it for _all_ our sakes.”

The women all paused for a moment, then bowed their heads to the best of their ability, uttering thanks and gratitude amid quiet sobs and tears. Akira stood to his feet, a newfound peace about himself as he thought on the situation. “What now?” he asked his friends. “Check on the animal one more time before we call it a day?”

“Definitely,” said Ann. “I think I have one more thing to say to him before he… expires.”

“And I can’t wait to watch that,” Ryuji added confidently.

They reassured the captives once more that help was on the way before walking back to Kamoshida. They found him sprawled out on the ground, having tried to crawl away but only making it about six feet. A thin trail of blood followed him on the floor as he breathed heavily, his torso heaving slowly with each breath. “Ah,” he wheezed, “finally back? Find what you were looking for?”

“Just more victims to deprive you of,” said Ann. “We’re done here, I just wanted to say something more to you.”

“Aren’t you going to kill me.”

With Akira and Ryuji fully expecting a resolute yes from Ann especially, they were taken back when, after a long silence, she slowly muttered, “No.”

“Wait, what?” Ryuji asked.

“You’re not going to do it?” asked Akira.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Kamoshida let out another wheezing cackle. “So weak, so stupid, even when given your just revenge on a silver platter.”

“You even think that killing you would be just then?”

Kamoshida laughed more heartily, but not like that of a maniacal villain. He guffawed as if the blond woman had said a genuinely hilarious joke. “I am a goddamn _sadist_ , Ann! You know that better than most of the idiots in this fucking town! When you’ve seen and done as much as I have, being an Olympian god among man and all, you just end up getting desensitized to the common tastes and tendencies you reveled in not too long ago.” Kamoshida rolled over on the floor, looking up to the ceiling blankly. “I made a point of tasting every pleasure known to man. After all, I fucking _deserved_ it. I’ve devoted my whole life to rising above anyone else, and when I finally got to the peak of that Mount Olympus, I was going to enjoy every indulgence I possibly could. And then, in only a few years, I did. I drank and smoked and fucked my way around the entire world before being forced into rehab by my agent. Going back to that shithole Shujin Academy that I was an alumni of, teaching all you miserable and worthless students the basics of volleyball ‘cuz you couldn’t fucking learn anything else!? That was all a mandate, again, by my fucking agent!”

Kamoshida smiled bloodily as he attempted to laugh once more, before choking on his own blood and spitting it into the air. “You fucking animal,” Ann muttered.

“There was one thing I got out of it though,” he sneered at the girl. Ann took a nervous step back, with the boys taking a defensive step forward. “I met you, Angel-eyes.”

“Don’t _CALL ME THAT!!!”_ Ann pointed her gun at Kamoshida once again, and neither boys did anything to stop her. “Do not call me that _EVER AGAIN,_ you bastard! You’re a rapist, a murderer! And I want nothing more than to wipe your miserable existence from the Earth, but…” she trailed off, her hand shaking ever so slightly. “But I _won’t_. I won’t do it. I will do everything in my power to be as different from you as possible. I wanted my revenge, and seeing you like this, knowing the kind of men that are going to take you away, I _got it_. I have my revenge.”

“Ann,” Akira asked, “are you sure?”

“That’s it then?” Kamoshida interrupted. “Is it too much? Is it too fucking difficult for you to do it? Is it too hard for you, Angel-eyes? Would it be too hard? Is Shiho not fucking worth it!?”

“NO! GOD ALMIGHTY… no.” Ann exhaled, quickly sighing. “It’d be too damn easy.” She paused again. “Every night, I’ve laid awake in bed thinking through every detail of how I’d want to subject him to every form or torture I could possibly think of. And then, after I’d made him feel every bit of pain he’s ever inflicted on anyone else, I’d end him, and walk away.” 

While Akira and Ryuji attempted to find a suitable reaction to such words, Kamoshida only smirked up at her. “Aw, so you do still think about me,” he said in a voice almost friendly. 

“I do,” Ann nodded. “Every day, every night, I think about the disgusting animal you really are. And now, I can finally realize all those thoughts and desires.” She shook her head, her face wrought with disgust. “But I won’t. Because if I did, it would be something you and I have in common, and the fact that we walk the same Earth is more than enough. I won’t become _anything_ remotely like you.” Ann turned around on her heel, clenching and unclenching her fist as she put her gun away. “I’ve taken everything from you, and you will die, just not by my hands. That’s enough for me.”

Ann walked back to the prison cell, leaving her friends behind in an awkward situation. Kamoshida had not moved, and most of the bleeding seemed to be slowing. Ryuji tightened his grip on the pistol once more, then turned toward Ann’s direction. “I’m going to help her get the girls out and check on Kasumi,” he said. “You can come if you want, or you can make sure this filth doesn’t die on us before we can hand him over to Iwai. Your call.”

“You sure you don’t need anything else?”

Ryuji looked between the two men, then shook his head with a sneer. “He’s not worth it anymore. He took my leg, I took his. He’s dead anyway. I don’t need his worthless blood on my hands.”

Akira nodded, then sat against the wall next to him. “I’ll be here. Make sure Ann and the others are okay.”

“Thank you.” They exchanged nods, and Ryuji left.

Akira looked back down at Kamoshida, listening to the distant relieved cries of the women he had captured. He still held the gun in his hand, but his mind was mostly blank. Perhaps he was in shock again, he did not know. All he knew was that their mission seemed to be over, and to be a relative success.

“You have strange friends,” Kamoshida muttered.

“Shut up,” said Akira.

Ignoring him, Kamoshida continued, “I don’t remember you at Shujin. Have you three known each other a while?”

“I said shut up.”

“They must really like you, or at least respect you, to let you come on this personal vendetta with them. But then they can’t even finish the job? How fucked up is that? Beating a man broken and bleeding and saying ‘fuck it’, then leaving him on the floor in a bloody mess.”

“It’s a lot better than you deserve, asshole. You should have been thanking them, worshipping them for showing you mercy after what you’ve done.”

“But look at me. You three are completely unharmed, and I’m bleeding in places I didn’t know I could bleed from. I’m the victim here, ain’t I?”

“Do you ever stop talking? And no, you absolutely are not.”

“You don’t know anything about me or the world, kid. Nothing at all.” Kamoshida turned to face him, smiling a vile and bloody grin that made Akira’s skin crawl. “But I’m a nice guy, so I’ll enlighten you.”

**Meanwhile…**

It took only a strong kick from Ryuji to break the padlock on the cell, freeing the captives. The two women who had been laying on the floor of the citadel were expectedly injured, one only having a sprained ankle and able to walk with assistance, the other possessing a broken leg and was thus carried away by Ryuji. They reached the previous floor slowly, helping the women along every step of the way when they finally reunited with Kasumi. Nervously clutching Akira’s knife close to her chest, she then beamed when she saw two of her three saviors walking toward her.

“You’re okay!” she cried out, rushing over to them before slowing down upon realizing Akira was not present. “Where’s Akira? Is he okay?” she asked frantically.

Ryuji immediately realized he did not have the time to effectively explain the previous events to her, so he decided to summarize. “He’s fine, he’s just… bringing up the rear. Making sure everything is taken care of, you know?”

“What else needs to be taken care of? Is he really okay?”

“He’s fine, I promise,” Ann replied for Ryuji. “But we’re more concerned about if you’re okay, Kasumi. Did anything happen while we were gone?”

As they helped the ladies up the stairs toward the entrance hall, Kasumi shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Nothing else happened after Akira left. He did give me this knife, just in case though. He seems like a very sweet man.” A weak smile came to Kasumi’s voice as she looked down at the ornate dagger.

“He’s a real hero,” Ryuji nodded. “Helped us save these women too. We’re gonna take you all up to meet with our guys so they can get you all safely the hell out of here.”

Kasumi considered pressing the matter on who these “guys” may be, but given the nature of their weapons and their ability to track down Kamoshida, she already had a suspicion that they were referring to yakuza. However, were they deceiving her in regards to their intentions, they were going to extreme and frankly ridiculous lengths to do so. Ryuji, Ann, and Akira all seemed so kind; she simply had to trust them. The alternative would be no better if it truly was an overly elaborate trap.

They did not need to wait long when a tall man in a grey cap and long coat appeared at the top of the stairs, accompanied by three well dressed and dangerous looking men. Kasumi was the first to notice and reflexively yelped as she hid behind Ann. The other women had similar reactions, but Ryuji quickly assured them that there was nothing wrong.

“They’re with us,” he said in a soft tone. “Their leader is Iwai, the guy who led us here in the first place. We’re all going to get you to safety.”

“He’s right,” said Ann, patting Kasumi on the shoulder. “We’re going to get you all medical attention, after getting you as far away from here as we can.”

Iwai descended the stairs first, holding his hands out in a sign of peace. “I may look a bit rough, but I’m not gonna hurt you one bit,” he said slowly. “We’re all just glad we were able to save you all. Boys,” he called back to his men, “escort the women to the cars, and have the medical supplies at the ready. Give ‘em whatever they ask for.”

“Yes, sir,” the tallest one nodded. The three yakuza quickly sprang into action, leading the captives away with a surprising deftness and sense of caring that betrayed their hardened exterior. The women were reluctant at first, but grew to trust them quickly as the men were already offering bandages while helping the girls who could not walk as well. Iwai nodded toward them as they ascended the stairs, pleased with their display. 

Kasumi, however, elected to stay at Ann’s side. The blond did not have the heart to object, instead putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Well,” Iwai began, turning toward the teens, “color me impressed, kids. You saved those girls and came out with only a few scratches, except for the fact that we’re missing one of you.”

“He’s still down there with Kamoshida,” Ann replied. “We incapacitated him, but… I decided that I didn’t need to kill him. I’ve done all I need, and there’s no way he can escape now. We wanted to leave the rest, uh, to you guys.”

Iwai nodded noncommittedly. “If that’s what you feel, I can oblige. You down with this too, Sakamoto?”

“Hell yeah. I don’t need that animal’s blood on my hands. But don’t think we let him off easily, Iwai. He’s pretty badly fucked up down there. Akira’s just watching him to make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid while we were getting those women out of there.”

“I can’t wait to hear that story,” Iwai smirked. “Now, why don’t we get that boy back –”

A gunshot, faint but distinct, rang out from down the hall, cutting Iwai off. The teens looked toward the far doorway in shock, Ann’s face riddled with it to the greatest degree. “Akira…?” she gasped.

“What the hell?” Ryuji glowered.

“Oh no…” Kasumi covered her mouth.

Iwai put his hand to his gun holster, taking the lead immediately. “Stay here, all of you,” he commanded.

“No way!” argued Ann, stomping her foot on the floor. “We’re going with you, and there’s no two ways about it!”

“I’ll go too!” Kasumi added resolutely. “I’m done just waiting around for others!”

Ryuji brushed past them, pulling out his gun once more. “We ain’t got time to argue this shit, c’mon!”

As they all ran toward the stairs, another gunshot rang out. Then another, and another. Then seven more in rapid succession as they nearly sprinted down the stairs and the following hallway. Kasumi said a silent prayer, Ann’s breath became short, and Ryuji felt like he could explode with his rage at the thought of Akira being in danger. Or worse.

“Akira!” Ann called out as they returned to where they had left Kamoshida. “Akira, where are you!?”

They rounded the corner, finally back at the dark hall. They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing the image before them. 

Akira, holding his gun out in front of him and clicking away at the trigger, was standing over a body, bloody and riddled with holes. Its face was so covered in blood that it took them a moment to realize it was Kamoshida. Two holes poured forth rivers of blood from his forehead, and many more permeated his torso. It was… grisly, abhorrent. Kasumi repressed a new need to vomit, covering her mouth both for the sake of her gag reflex and to suppress a scream. 

Akira slowly turned around toward them, revealing himself covered in blood all over his face and body, but he appeared unharmed. His eyes were dazed, his face contorted in a glare. He said nothing, barely visibly responding to his friends’ appearance, before his expression softened from one of rage to that of abject horror, while still appearing unfocused and clouded. Their friend appeared… ghastly.

Kamoshida was dead. Murdered brutally, by Akira Kurusu.


	16. Chapter 16

**[WARNING: The following chapter contains content and themes some readers may find disturbing or unsettling. Reader discretion is advised.]**

**Chapter 16**

**A Way to Fall**

**Five minutes earlier…**

“You will… enlighten me?” Akira replied to Kamoshida with a raised, mocking eyebrow. “You, the guy who just admitted to having failed in all his endeavors, and now lays in a pool of his own blood, is going to enlighten _me_ to the ways of the world?”

Kamoshida attempted a laugh, but instead gargled up more blood and bile. Akira was disturbed by the notion that he was almost growing accustomed to the image. “Do you have any idea what it takes to be an Olympian, kid? It takes more than just talent, you know. You need dedication, willpower, both of which on a level unlike anyone else in the world. That’s you become the best in the world.”

“Yeah? So what?”

“So don’t you think that the best in the world deserves some kickback for their efforts.”

“Just shut up.”

Kamoshida let out another gargling laugh. “I really doubt you go many girlfriends with that kind of attitude. You’re so standoffish and short with people.”

“Because you’re a literal murderer.”

“Most of these boys and girls are druggies, runaways, dropouts, drunks, you know. The worthless type. Impressionable, easy, stupid.”

“So you take advantage of the less fortunate? And you think that legitimizes anything? What about those girls you imprisoned that we broke out? They didn’t seem like druggies or drunks.”

“They weren’t. They were just impressionable idiots. Little, small town girls in a big, scary city that could barely tell their left from their right if they didn’t know the name of every street in town. Easy pickings for us.”

“And Kasumi? She’s a successful gymnast.”

“And the kind of girl who walks around alone at night in a skimpy leotard. She was just asking to eb shown to the rougher side of town –”

Akira put the barrel of his gun to Kamoshida’s forehead, briefly silencing him. “Is anything remotely sacred to you anymore?”

“What do you think, hero-boy?”

“So that’s a no?”

“It is. Tell me, kid, is this the hardest thing you’ve ever done?”

Akira grew equally more confused and angry at Kamoshida’s roundabout responses. “What are you getting at?”

“Have you ever had the literal weight of the world on your shoulders? Have you ever known that the entire human race is watching your every move like a hawk? Both in your professional and private life?”

“…No.”

“Were you just an ordinary high schooler living off mom and dad’s paychecks before you came here? Have you ever had to _try_ for anything?”

Akira pressed his gun harder into Kamoshida’s head, leaving a deep mark on his brow. “ _Shut. Up.”_

“I had to try. My whole life, I had to _try._ And every success brought more pressure, more risks, higher stakes. I knew it would never end until I was on the top of the world. And even with all those hyenas hanging around me, piling their expectations on me, waiting for me to fail so they could scoop up my losses, I _won_. I won like only a few people in history have ever won before. I proved them all wrong! You have no idea what it’s like to have the world look down on you, set impossible expectations for you, then rise above it all anyway! So, after that, I took everything I could back, just to spit in the face of those who doubted me, or wanted me to fail.”

Akira paused for a moment. He had little in the way of a response ready for Kamoshida’s diatribe. But then, he felt a heat in his gut, a ringing in his ears. It was familiar, disturbingly so. His eyes stung, his core burned like someone was gradually heating up a lump of coals inside him, and his hands began to shake. With nothing more than a throaty grunt, Akira grabbed Kamoshida by the afro and threw him against the wall. A splatter of blood appeared on the wall behind him, and Kamoshida groaned in pain, before breaking out into a crackling laugh.

“Your accomplishments don’t mean _anything_ compared to what you did with them. You think I should respect you for your achievements? Or pity you for having to work so hard? Fuck that. You’re a deviant and a serial killer. Nothing you can say will ever make me think any more of you than that.”

“Well, then what are you going to do?” Kamoshida asked. “Are you going to kill me?” Akira’s eyes widened as if faced with a disturbing truth. “Is that why you have a gun digging into my gut? You want to talk down to me for killing people, while you obviously want to send me to mee the Big Man in the sky.”

“Are you saying we’d be the same if I did? Because math would say otherwise.”

“Then go ahead!” Kamoshida shouted at him. “If it really wouldn’t make the same, wouldn’t actually _do_ anything to you, then go ahead and pull the trigger!” Kamoshida grabbed Akira’s gun with both hands and held the barrel to his forehead forcefully. “Go ahead, hero-boy! If you’re so confident in the karmatic balance of it all, then just go on and end me!”

Akira pulled the gun away from Kamoshida and battered him across the face with it. A tooth broke in the man’s mouth, and a bloody bruise was left on his cheek. But Akira did not lower his gun afterward. “I could kill you,” he snarled, “right here, right now. But like Ann said, I won’t become like you. I won’t become anything like you!”

Kamoshida nodded weakly, then smirked. “At least your yakuza brothers have more guts than you, kid.”

“What did you say?”

“I know who you’re riding with, how you found me, how you got those pistols that aren’t exactly civilian grade. You got them from the Families, meaning you’re a goddamn criminal, just like me.” Akira glowered at him vengefully. “So you say you won’t become anything like me? You can say that with a straight face while still breaking the law every day, running around with people just like me, and even holding a fucking gun to my head!”

“Apples and oranges, asshole,” Akira growled.

“I don’t care what you do to me, kid,” Kamoshida smirked, “I just want you to admit something to me.”

“That I’m like you?”

“That you’re like me,” he nodded. “At least, that you’re just a step away from going down this exact same road.” Kamoshida showed off his bloody teeth even more before spitting in Akira’s face. “Go ahead, kill me, end me like I can see you want to. It’s as plain as the sky is blue, kid! That rage, that desire, neither of your friends had it quite like you. They didn’t have the same fire in their eyes like you do right now—”

Akira kicked Kamoshida’s nose with the toe of his shoe, sending his head reeling back, but the man did not cry out. He turned back and laughed , heartily and joyously, as the back of his neck began to bruise. Akira had damaged a muscle from the impact, but Kamoshida did not care in the slightest, even as the pain made his vision blur.

“You _MONSTER!_ ” Akira shouted.

“N-n-no,” Kamoshida stuttered, holding a hand out to Akira, “I-I’m not the monster here, boy. _Y-you_ are! You’re a torturer wh-who calls himself a hero! And it makes me fucking _ECSTATIC!_ The police are nothing, Akira! They can’t do shit in this town, and if I had the chance, and you let me leave, I’d be sure to track down any fuckable woman you have in your family, and make them all the stars of my next picture! _”_ Akira raised his gun once again, but more slowly. He pointed the barrel directly between Kamoshida’s eyes. 

Kamoshida nodded knowingly, letting the blood pour from his nose and smile. “You’re gonna do it,” he beamed. “You’re going to kill me, I can see it. But don’t worry, your boys back in the Family will see you as a hero. They’ll praise you, commend you, even the cops will write your legend in their files after this is all done. But you’ll know, in your heart, in your mind, in your bones, what you really did. You’ll see it every time you close your eyes, when you’re in bed, when you’re with a woman, all you’ll see is the man who wasn’t some powerful beast or king, but a helpless human you ended in cold blood.” Akira’s senses were leaving him; he felt as if he was becoming hyper fixated on every syllable of Kamoshida’s speech, though was not able to truly process what was happening.

“Wanna call bullshit on me? You know it won’t mean anything, I’ve walked down this same path. But one day, you’ll come out the other side and realize that those thoughts don’t scare you anymore. Then, for one moment, you’ll be terrified of that realization, before it fades away, and you’ll never have a problem killing again.” Kamoshida let out one more guttural laugh as he saw Akira’s wrath well up in his eyes. “Do it,” Kamoshida commanded. “Kill me, and walk out of here a changed man. Become the hero you think you are, Akira!” The younger man put slightly more pressure on the trigger of his gun. “You’re a yakuza, aren’t you!? Show them your will, and slay the beast!” The world around Akira went silent, isolated, cold. There seemed to only be Kamoshida and himself, in a dark, endless void. 

Kamoshida laughed. “ _DO IIIIIT!”_

Akira’s ears rang as the gunshot reverberated off the walls. Kamoshida’s head smashed against the wall behind him as the bullet traveled through his head and out the other end. Blood splattered behind him on the wall as he went still, leaning against the hard brickwork. For the briefest moment, Akira was utterly petrified by what he had done, but then he noticed the smile. Even in death, Kamoshida’s smile did not fade, but was still pulled across his face like a taut rope. The image was sickening, and only infuriated Akira more.

“Stop laughing…” Akira muttered toward the corpse, but it did not obey his order. It continued to smile, as if mocking him. “Stop… _laughing!_ ” Akira shot another round into Kamoshida’s head, releasing another deluge of blood all over the corpse and the wall. But even that did not diminish the smile. “Stop it! Don’t laugh at me! You don’t deserve to laugh at me!!” Akira’s finger curled around the trigger once more. “ _STOP LAUGHING!!!”_

Akira unloaded seven more shots into Kamoshida’s body, anything to remove that smile. After the four seconds needed to empty his clip, Akira was left standing in the hall alone with the corpse, clicking away at the trigger of his gun. Nothing came out save for the sound of the metal components attempting to coax out non-existent rounds, but Akira did not notice. 

His thoughts were as empty as the room he was in, his sense of self and his surroundings were clouded and foggy. Endlessly, his final conversation with Kamoshida replayed in his mind, every detail as clear and crisp as if it were happening before him once again. The images then congealed and melded in front of him, beginning to overlap each other as if twenty televisions were replaying random scenes all at once. The sound was deafening, the images overwhelming. Akira lifted up his gun and tried to shoot one of the scenes, but it only quieted it for a moment. Every scene he shot made another scene around him louder. Even his own thoughts were drowned out in the deluge of memories.

As he continued to try to silence the scenes surrounding him, a voice that was not Kamoshida’s barely made it to his ears. It was a woman’s, sweet and soft but alarmed; it washed over his ears like a warm Spring breeze in a brutal Winter storm. For a moment, he was completely lost on who the voice may be, but through the continuing scenes of Kamoshida, off in the far distance, he spied Ann. She was silhouetted and blurry, but he recognized the shape of her head, her body, and her hair. The voice asked if he was alright, and half of him believed it to be another trick. _But what if it’s not…_

He turned around slowly, still firing on the many Kamoshidas around him. Amidst the scenes was another collection of blurry figures, but none of them were Kamoshida. He recognized them vaguely, like looking at ancient photographs from one’s early childhood. They did not scream at him like the Kamoshidas, they did not try to drown him out and bury him in their words. Even as the Kamoshidas crowded around them, they did not seem affected. Akira shot at the Kamoshidas around them, keeping them away from his friends… Yes, these are his friends. He knew that for sure now.

The tallest one, wearing a long coat and a tall gray cap, came toward him slowly, holding out his hands in front of him. The man came into focus slowly, and Akira recognized him as Iwai. As Iwai approached him, all the Kamoshidas around him seemed to explode in a cacophony of noise unlike anything he had ever heard, causing Akira to step back with a crazed and terrified expression.

Then all was quiet.

“Whoa, whoa,” said Iwai in a near whisper. “Hey, easy.” He stopped moving and held his hands up more emphatically, even though he knew the gun was empty. He did not know the full extend of Akira’s mental taxation or possible trauma, so he was trying to be as calm and relaxed as possible so as not to freak him out further. Iwai took another glance behind Akira, quickly taking in the body of Kamoshida once again, then looked back to the young man. “Okay, Akira,” he said, “you can give me the gun, alright? I’m not gonna hurt ya, you’re okay now.”

“I-I…” Akira stammered weakly. “I don’t kn-know…”

“It’s okay, that’s okay,” Iwai reassured him. “Now, just hand me the gun and we’re gonna get you out of here safe and sound, alright?”

His mind still a thick and hazy fog, Akira looked behind Iwai to his friends. Ryuji was nodding to him, encouraging him to give up the gun. Kasumi looked completely terrified, but equally concerned for her savior. Ann, however, was shaking in her boots, swaying side to side uncomfortably. Akira was not aware of this, but Ann was literally fighting against her own body to keep herself from rushing him and taking him in her arms.

Akira finally internalized what Iwai was saying, and began to hand the empty gun over before his trembling hands dropped it to the ground. He backed away from it reflexively as if dropping his mother’s fine china, but Iwai only assured him again he was okay and picked up the gun, putting it in his pocket. “Alright, now why don’t we get all of you out of here, okay?” he looked between Akira and the other young adults. “You’ve all done more than enough for today, you need some rest.” 

Akira walked toward his friends slowly and shakily, stumbling over his own feet as he felt like his legs were melting under him. Ryuji immediately came over to offer him support, with Iwai doing the same on his other side. Kasumi and Ann came up to his front, with Ann wiping the blood from his face to confirm to herself that he was not injured. As the blood was cleared from his cheeks and under his eyes, Ann began to cry as she closely looked upon the state of her friend. Akira and Ann’s eyes met, and he saw tears welling in her eyes. She felt all the vengeful wrath toward Kamoshida wash away, replaced only by a sense of sorrow and remorse as another one of her friends was reduced to such a state by his evil ways.

But it was only when Akira began to cry that the tears in her eyes streamed down her face.

Akira hung his head low as his senses and memories returned to him in clarity. All the gravity of the situation he was in falling on him at once like a massive sheet of metal being dropped on him from above. His eyes and cheeks stung, his chest clenched and tightened as he realized the truth. “I… I’m a m-murderer…” he said aloud. He repeated this three more times, Iwai and Ryuji being left at a loss for what to say. Kasumi began to cry to herself, shaking her head to Akira as if disputing his claim, even though she was aware of the truth. Ann wrapped her arms around his neck in a flash and quietly sobbed into his shoulder, though Akira threw himself back after a moment. Disconnected from the support of Ryuji and Iwai, he fell to the floor, a sense of humiliation and smallness seeping into him along with the despair he felt at realizing how he was a monster…

What happened next was a series of blurry images to Akira. He was in the halls, then out on the driveway in front of the building, then in the car, and now he was somewhere else. He was lying on a bed in room dimly lit with orange candles; their scent was herbal and earthy. His head pounded in his skull, but he could not move his hand up to rub his temple. He had never seen this place before, though for some reason did not feel in danger. 

He closed his eyes as the migraine intensified, and to little surprise he saw Kamoshida’s disgusting bloodied grin staring back at him behind his eyelids. The reality that he was a murderer returned to him in a great wave, and he gritted his teeth in anger at himself before attempting to banish the thought from his mind.

It did not work.

As he tried to stay off the second emotional breakdown he was aware he had had thus far, he heard the sharp plastic footsteps of what sounded like high heels approaching him from his left. To his left was an open doorway, and a tall, thin woman in a doctor’s coat appeared in it. She had a high-raised, punkish hairdo and pale skin under dark, thick makeup. Her eyes were large and accentuated further by her dark eyeliner. In her arm, she also held an old, beat-up wooden clipboard. Under her doctor’s coat was a black tank top with the word “ _MEGADETH”_ emblazoned across the chest, and black tights accentuated her thin legs down to her thick high heels.

The woman who Akira assumed was a doctor in spite of the majority of her appearance cocked her head to the side as they made eye contact. She then smacked her lips and nodded as she jotted something down on her clipboard.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she greeted him in a strangely deep and sultry tone. “Did you have a nice nap?”

Akira glared at the doctor as his confusion increased. “Wh-what are you talking about? What time is it?”

“It’s 4:28 a.m. I did say ‘good morning’, didn’t I?”

“Did you give me anesthetics or something?”

“A little bit to ease off the anxiety attacks, but that was it. Your body just collapsed from the stress and needed time to recharge.”

“C-collapsed?”

“Hmm, I guess it’s not surprising you wouldn’t remember all the details.” The doctor sat in a chair beside him and looked at her clipboard once again, writing down something else. “I assume you’d like to know who I am and where you are, huh?”

“That would be nice,” Akira joked weakly.

“Well, to start, I’m Dr. Tae Takemi. And although I am a medical practitioner, you’re not in a hospital. You’re actually back at LeBlanc, in one of the executive suites.”

“Oh, you must be the Doc Ryuji talked about.”

“That would be correct, yes.”

“How… how did I get back here?” Akira asked.

“Iwai drove you and your friends, of course. You got back about noon yesterday and have been slipping in and out of consciousness since. You last woke up just under five hours ago, but I wouldn’t exactly have called you lucid.”

Akira felt some sensation returning to his body. His headache did not get any better, but at least he was now able to rub his forehead. “What happened after I—” he cut himself off before he admitted to his deed, trying to think of an adequate lie. Dr. Takemi, however, filled in the blanks for him.

“After you killed Kamoshida?”

“Wait, what?”

“I know what happened, it’s okay,” she nodded to him. “Boss told me everything I needed to know, and Sakamoto filled me in on about everything else. He and that Takamaki girl also informed me about the panic attacks you suffered all the way back here, though I didn’t exactly _need_ to be filled in on that one. You were starting another fit when you got here.” Akira felt a strong sense of embarrassment creep upon him. “You know,” Takemi continued, “most yakuza don’t get nearly that bothered over their first kill. Most would think you’re still a child trapped in a man’s body if they heard about your reaction to what happened.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Akira glowered at her.

“I, however, see it as you having a strong sense of empathy.” Akira had nothing in the way of a response to such a heel turn. “It was refreshing to know I’m not treating a jaded criminal or sociopath for once; that I have an actual human being in my care.”

“Um, thanks?” Then like a cold dagger being driven into his ear, Akira experienced a sharp pain in his head, accompanied by a momentary flash of Kamoshida’s face, uttering something about a “monster”. He winced and grunted at the flashback before the world returned to normal around him.

“Are you alright?” Takemi asked casually. “If you’re experiencing any more symptoms, please tell me.”

“It’s… some kind of flashback. Along with a migraine.”

“I see,” Takemi nodded, again writing on her papers. “What you’re experiencing is fairly common, and these flashbacks may persist for a while. Sorry, but I don’t really have any medicine for mental trauma. I’m not a psychiatrist.”

“It’s not your fault,” Akira groaned. He then sighed, “It’s mine.”

“Now, I may not be a psychiatrist, but I know that kind of attitude isn’t going to help you heal, in any capacity. You need to keep your body and your mind relaxed if you want any chance of getting better.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Akira snided.

“At least you’re still capable of cracking wise,” Takemi got to her feet and walked across the room. Akira was not so inundated as to not notice the distinct sashay in her walk as she approached a table lined with medicine capsules. She opened one and brought two pills over to the young man. “Now, roll over and remove your trousers.”

Akira gave her a glare both shocked and indignant. “You’re shitting me.”

“I am,” she nodded, “just take these with the glass of water to your right. It’ll help you relax and may reduce your flashbacks as well.”

Akira did as he was told, the thought of not experiencing that stabbing pain again enticing him to move even against his body’s painful disputes. When he swallowed the pills, he asked, “So what happened to my friends? Where are they?”

“Ryuji is in one door down, and Takamaki is in the room across from us with that Yoshizawa girl. Last I knew they were asleep, though it took the girl considerably longer to achieve that than Sakamato. I sure as hell don’t blame her, though, after all you three have been through.”

Akira nodded weakly. “At least they’re safe,” he groaned. “Have you ever done anything like that, Doc?”

“Absolutely not,” Takemi chuckled. “’First, do not harm’, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“But I can’t say I disagree with your actions, if they may have been a bit gruesome. You were caught in a bad situation and responded in kind, along with probably more adrenaline than you’ve ever experienced in your life. You just be thankful you’re unharmed.”

“Trust me, I am.” Akira sat up and rubbed his head before breathing sharply as another flashback came upon him, then vanished as quickly as it came.”

“Another one?” Takemi asked.

“Yeah,” Akira breathed slightly heavier. “Feels like an icepick inside my skull.”

“I’ll be monitoring it in case it gets worse. Just try to relax and maybe get some sleep for now, kid.”

“Haven’t I already slept enough?”

“Normally, yes.” Takemi gently placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back onto the pillow. Akira’s body was strangely unable to reject such advances. “But this isn’t exactly normal. Rest. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Akira sighed, his eyelids growing heavy. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.

Takemi let out a soft, quiet laugh. “Good boy,” she said as she left the room.

It did not take long for sleep to take Akira once again, though that also came with vivid nightmares. He experienced killing Kamoshida over and over again, every time being slightly different. Sometimes the walls were a different color, others he saw Kamoshida contort and transform into even more monstrous versions of himself. At the end of some more intense cycles, he would wake up in a cold sweat, breathing like he had just been held underwater. He was unaware of this, but no cycle that night lasted more than forty minutes.

At first, he was able to return to sleep rather quickly and uneventfully. But as the medicine began to wear off, the flashbacks would return, each more vivid and painful than the last as they repeated random moments from the confrontation, sans any of the more comforting aspects afterward. The first ones only made him wince, then following ones would cause him to gasp or writhe in pain for a moment. He already now dreaded going back to sleep, but now he was even afraid of waking back up. At least his dreams were not physically painful.

After one particularly nightmarish and brutal cycle, Akira woke up again and finally was lucid enough to check the time. “8:37”, the clock to his right read. He was unsure as to how many times he had been awoken the previous night, nor if Takemi had ever returned, but that was neither here nor there now. After a moment of quiet, the flashbacks returned. With a grunt of pain, he saw Kamoshida mocking him, laughing jovially through his bloody smile. “… _not the monster…”_ it cut off. Barely a moment to breathe, and it happened again. “ _You are… in cold blood…”_ The pain was increasing, he thrashed about on his bed every time. “ _You’re like me…”_

That line replayed over and over his head beyond his control. “ _like me… like me… like me…” No, I’m not!_ Tears began to fall down Akira’s face, both from the pain and the thought of what he had said being true. “ _rage… desire…”_ “No-ho-ho,” he cried softly, his hands covering his face as if to shield himself from the images in his head. _“like me… like me…”_

Akira let his hands fall from his face. His ears were ringing, and his body suddenly felt… light. Light enough for him to sit up in his bed. “ _like me…”_ still rang in his head over and over. He no longer argued against it, but only shook his head feebly. There was a bathroom across from him, and he entered it slowly. “Like him,” he muttered. “Like him…”

 _“Do it,”_ Kamoshida’s voice whispered in his head. He saw the image of the man screaming it at him, but the sound it produced was only a whisper. Akira opened the medicine cabinet, seeing a toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, a bar of soap, some towels…

And a razor.

“ _Do it,”_ the voice said once again. “ _Like me…”_ “Like him,” he repeated. _I deserve this…_ Akira took the razor blade in hand and extended his other hand over the sink. The flashbacks were growing louder, a hundred needles gouged at his skull as he brought the cold metal to his skin. “ _Do it…”_ “Do it,” he repeated. Kamoshida’s whispers grew louder. “ _Do it, do it. Do it.”_ The metal touched his wrist. “ _DO IIIIIT!”_

He did not hear Ann enter his room. He did not notice her calling out his name when she saw his bedroom empty, the memories were too loud. Time seemed to skip until he heard a feminine gasp behind him.

Ann stared into the bathroom, and saw blood pouring from Akira’s wrists as he leaned over the sink. He did not seem to notice her, or at least did not acknowledge her presence. She covered her mouth and felt her eyes fill with tears.

“I deserve it,” Akira muttered.

“I… _am_ a monster.”

…

Son  
You've got a way to fall  
They'll tell you where to go  
But they won't know  
  


Son  
You'd better take it all  
They'll tell you what they know  
But they won't show  
  


Oh  
I've got something in my throat  
I need to be alone  
While I suffer  
  


Son  
You've got a way to kill  
They're picking on you still  
But they don't know  
  


Son  
You'd better wait to shine  
They'll tell you what is yours  
But they'll take mine  
  


Oh  
I've got something in my throat  
I need to be alone  
While I suffer  
  


Oh  
There's a hole inside my boat  
And I need stay afloat  
For the summer  
Long  
  


Oh  
I've got something in my throat  
I need to be alone  
While I suffer  
  


Oh  
There's a hole inside my boat  
And I need stay afloat  
For the summer  
  


Son  
You've got to wait to fall  
They'll tell you where to go  
But they won't know…

…

“You have _ONE_ missed call.”

_BEEP_

“Hi there, Akira. It’s your dad. It’s been a while since we talked, and I just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. Your mom told me all about your conversation with her, how things have happened recently, how you feel. I just want to let you know that I’m proud of you for being so strong. I always knew that you got your mother’s strength of character, and I can only hope you’re putting forth every bit of it every day now. I know you’re going to be okay, and I wanted to remind you that no matter what happens, we both love you more than you can possibly imagine.

Call me when you get this, Akira. We’re worried about you, but we know you’ve got what it takes to make it through this. Love you, son. Take care.”

_Beep_

“End of final message.”

…

“Well, this got fucked pretty quickly.

“I honestly didn’t expect he’d have it in him.”

“What the hell is Sakura thinking, putting that kid up to that? You think he still believes in that ‘Heart of the Dragon’ bullshit?”

“It’s not bullshit, and you know it. Sakura seems to be going all in on that boy, and it looks like his bet might be paying off for now.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean for us? Want us to put the kid on ice before he can really start fucking things up?”

“No, I don’t. Actually, I want to see how this plays out for a little while.”

“I thought you didn’t like gambling.”

“There’s never a bad gamble if you run the house. The house _always_ wins.”

“Your confidence never ceases to amaze.”

“My plans are coming to fruition even in spite of Sakura’s little trump card. He may be hiding a pocket joker, but that’s still not enough to beat out a royal straight flush. No matter what this kid does, it won’t be of any consequence. Hell, he may prove to be a valuable asset.

“Can we recruit him then?”

“Not right now, no. We will wait, and see how the joker plays against the ace.”

“Understood. We will be awaiting further instruction, Shido-san.”

“You will not need to wait long. The main attraction has already been set in motion. I have high hopes for you, Mr. Terumi.”

“I will exceed even such expectations, I guarantee it. I can only hope your ace will be able to match up.”

**There will be hell to pay in the city of decadence.**

**Akira Kurusu will return in The Phantom Dragon: The Honest Price**


	17. The Honest Price - Now Available

Family is everything...

The Honest Price, sequel to The Phantom Dragon: A Way To Fall, is now available! Check out my profile to delve into the continuing adventures of Akira Kurusu!

The underworld of Tokyo will never be the same again. Unleash the Heart of the Dragon!


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